


The Warrior Mage

by Kbug81



Series: The Warrior Mage [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Haven (Dragon Age), POV Lavellan, POV Solas, Romance, Sexy Cullen Rutherford, Sexy Solas, Slow Burn, Solas Smut, Solas Smut Saturday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 36,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kbug81/pseuds/Kbug81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendi’i never wanted to be a mage. But when the sky blew up and the Inquisition came knocking, she knew it was time to put her unique brand of magic to good use. Will she find love along the way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mage and the Templar

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't finished the game, there are spoilers. Also the majority of this work will be mature but there will be an explicit chapter or two!

Wendi’i took a long, slow draught from her tea. 

“Let me get this straight. You want me, a Dalish elf, to pretend to be this “Herald of Andraste” person and play along with your Inquisition until it gets big enough to close the Breach, which I have to do somehow?”

Cassandra made a noise of disgust. 

“You don't have to pretend to be anyone, it just so happens some people believe you truly are the Herald. What you believe is your business. And you can close the Breach. You've already proven that with your mark.” 

“Right,” Wendi’i responded. “I'm sorry, this is just a lot to process. I'll need to write to my clan and tell them that I'm not going to be home for a while and they'll need to find a new First. I'm still recovering from closing the rift at the temple, but when I have my strength back I will go meet this Mother Giselle and see what she has to say.”

“Well that was very matter of fact,” Leliana said in a surprised tone. 

Wendi’i sipped her tea again before answering.

“I see it as very matter of fact. There is a hole in the sky threatening the existence of the world. I didn't ask for it, but the mark on my hand seems to be key to closing that hole. Since it appears I have no choice, there is no logical reason to make a fuss. If talking to this woman helps, then I shall go. If launching myself at the Breach in a catapult helps, then load me in the trebuchet. But don't expect me to tell people I'm the Herald of whatever her name is because it's not true. I'm just a normal person in a strange situation.”

“Well alright then,” Cullen chuckled. “That settles that.”

“When will you be well enough to leave for the Hinterlands?” Cassandra asked.

Wendi’i considered this. She hadn't had the strength to get out of bed until today, and now she needed to travel through dangerous, war-torn territory. But if she started her workout routine back up the next day…

“Give me a week to get my strength back up. That should give you enough time to gather supplies for the journey, I take it?”

“A week?” Josephine asked incredulously. “You just fell out of hole in the sky, fought a pride demon, and closed a massive rift but you only want a week to heal?”

Wendi’i shrugged. 

“We don't have time to sit on our hands. Besides, I'm a fast healer.”

What she didn’t mention was she planned on tapping into her mana to speed up her recovery. She usually let her body mend itself but this was time-sensitive stuff and the gash on the back of her head from when she passed out and fell would normally take weeks to properly heal. It was just a matter of letting it work in small amounts over the course of a day or two so it didn’t over tire her or burn through all of her mana.

“You know your limitations better than any of us. I'll start preparing for the expedition,” Josephine said.

“And I will accompany you to facilitate this meeting and to assist you in the combat sure to come,” Cassandra stated. “Solas will also join, as we will need his assistance against the rebel apostates. As much as I hate to say it, we should bring Varric as well to cover all ranged defenses. We leave in one week. Rest well, and Maker heal you.”

It sounded like a closing statement, and sure enough everyone started scraping their chairs against the floor as they rose from the table. Wendi’i was already a little tired from the exertion of the day, but she was determined to start her exercises first thing in the morning to get back in shape. 

“Commander Cullen, may I have a moment?” she asked the former templar as he prepared to leave the Chantry. He turned to her with a smile, not something she was used to from a former templar or even a human for that matter.

“Of course, uh..if you don’t want to be called the Herald, what should I call you?”

“Wendi’i is fine with me,” she responded.

“Alright, Wendi’i, how can I be of service?”

She felt a brief chill down her spine, and a small warmth in between her legs. Stop this nonsense, she thought to herself, he used to be a templar. Handsome or not, that means sex is out of the question. Wendi’i cleared her throat.

“I’d like to get back into my normal workout routine tomorrow, but I don’t want to get in the way of your troops. What time do they go for their morning run?”

“Their morning run?” Cullen asked with a bit of surprise in his voice. “Well, I suppose I take them on their run at dawn. Then it’s to kitchens for breakfast, the barracks for weapons cleaning, and defensive weapons training until lunch a quarter past noon. Offensive weapons training follows lunch until mid afternoon, then lessons in mount care, then free time until dinner. After dinner everyone is assigned to various chores until dark when it’s lights out unless we have a scheduled night training session. There, a full report. Does that assist you?”

Wendi’i smiled.

“It actually does, indeed. I’ll make sure to take my run before dawn and find a peaceful spot away from Haven to do my exercises and personal training.”

“You know you are always welcome to run with the troops,” Cullen offered.

“I appreciate that, but I use physical exercise as a way to channel my focus. Mind over body, mind over magic, see? That works best when I’m alone.”

“I must admit you do surprise me,” Cullen chuckled. “I’ve never met a mage who went on pre-dawn runs.”

“Neither have I,” Wendi’i returned with a smile. It was too easy to talk to him. She forced herself to start moving away. 

“Take care, Commander.”

He nodded and said goodbye, leaving Wendi’i time to explore Haven before the exhaustion of her self-healing caught up to her.


	2. The Mage and the Apostate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i has an interesting encounter with the mysterious elven mage.

It was a well-run camp, despite it’s small size. The lady at the tavern was sweet if not a little stammering. The apothecary was talented if not a little grouchy. Varric the dwarf seemed legitimately concerned about her well-being, even suggested she run away. But Wendi’i wouldn’t do that. This was all far too exciting.

Wendi’i stretched her legs outside of Haven on an errand for the apothecary and picked out her spot to train the next day. She needed it to be far enough away from Haven to avoid judgemental glances and for her own peace of mind. Feeling tired from the mana-drain, she brought the recipe back to the apothecary and started to walk back to her cabin. Then she caught the eye of the apostate, Solas, and she realized he was the only one she hadn’t spoken with today. Since he was apparently the one who saved her life after the mark threatened to consume her, she felt rather guilty for not visiting him earlier. Wendi’i approached hoping he wouldn’t be cross or think her ungrateful.

“The Chosen of Andraste, the Blessed Hero sent to save us all,” he said in good humor.

Wendi’i smiled, happy to join the rapport.

“Am I riding in on a shining steed?”

“I would have suggested a griffon,” he responded playfully solemn, “but sadly they’re extinct.”

Wendi’i laughed, and the conversation turned towards the fade. She discovered that Solas could dream his way into history, an idea that fascinated her to no end. He talked with the fire of excitement in his eye and it was infectious. After a while he paused for a moment and Wendi’i thought to herself,

 _Now this is a guy I can get behind. The ones with passion and fervor are always so interesting much more attractive._ It didn't hurt he was also an elf.

“I will stay then,” he said firmly, interrupting her thoughts. “At least until the Breach has been closed.”

“Was that in doubt?” Wendi’i asked concernedly.

“I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution.”

Wendi’i frowned.

“You came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them turn that against you.”

“How would you stop them?” he inquired seriously.

“However I had to,” she responded in equal seriousness. She owed this mage her life and could imagine no circumstance where she wouldn’t stick up for him.

“Thank you,” he responded with soft warmth.

For a moment the air was still between them. There was a fleeting look of sadness in his eyes and Wendi’i hoped she had not mispoken at all to this fast new friend. But the moment passed and his usual smooth countenance resumed.

“But now let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach.”

Wendi’i was about to respond when a surge of exhaustion took hold of her body and she found it hard to stand. She dropped to her knees, her head pounded, and she felt wobbly all over. Without hesitation, Solas scooped her up into his arms and began carrying her back to her cabin.

“As I suspected, you have been using your magic to speed your recovery. But leave that unchecked and you consume all of your mana, and your body is left with nothing to run on. You must be more careful not to burn through it or this crash of sorts will happen again.”

Wendi’i murmured through the fierce need to pass out she was doing her best to fight,

“I don’t...normally forget...we were talking...I was distracted…”

“Yes, I understand, mentally stimulating conversation is a distraction and it’s so rare to find such a worthy conversant. But what you need now is sleep.”

No argument there. Wendi’i felt herself losing grip on her consciousness as Solas assured concerned onlookers that the Herald had simply exhausted herself and that all she needed was rest. Her head was cozily nestled against his shoulder and for a sleepy second she considered asking him to spend the night with her just to continue this pleasant feeling of closeness. But she was so far gone the question died as a sigh on her lips and before long she was being gently lowered onto her bed.

“See that she is properly dressed and tucked in for the night,” Wendi’i heard Solas whisper to a female servant at the edges of her consciousness. A whispered reply, a door opening then closing, and the last thing Wendi’i remembered before slipping into a deep sleep was the soft caress of a hand on her cheek and a voice low and tender.

“Sleep well.”


	3. The Dread Wolf and the Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas can't seem to shake his mind of the intriguing elven mage. When he discovers her running through the woods before dawn, he feels compelled to investigate further.

His feelings were conflicting. 

This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, she shouldn't have the mark. That red fellow wasn't supposed to use his foci to blow up the Conclave. He shouldn't be groveling at the feet of Chantry leaders like Cassandra and Leliana or tugging a forelock around a templar like Cullen. Solas felt his frustration boiling over and the heat of fire in his hands. 

But then he thought of Wendi’i’s sleeping face. So gentle and soft, so pleasing with its freckles dancing across her pale nose, the small dimple on her right side, and her choppy, vibrant copper hair that framed her face in its pixie cut. 

He had been pulled in to deal with the prisoner and the strange green mark, ready to face his mistakes but not ready to see such a beautiful creature lay before him. His only way to cope was to tell himself when she awoke she would be ignorant and self-entitled like all the Dalish he had met. 

But then she selflessly attempted to close the Breach, though it meant another deep sleep and more long hours for Solas to spend captivated by her peaceful features. She was fascinated by his accounts of the fade, and she was fierce in her declaration he should come to no harm. She did not carry herself with pride or importance. 

And when she collapsed in exhaustion as he carried her he found himself wishing he could stay with her all night, holding her the way he was. Wendi’i was cradled in his arms so complacently, so innocently. She had asked for none of this, and it was his fault she was here. Yet she drained herself dry trying to speed up her healing process and get to the work ahead. He admired that in her. It had been a long time before anyone had touched him in such a way.

Solas looked at the candle burning low in his cabin. It must be close to dawn, he thought to himself. He didn't sleep much these days, having slept enough for the past few thousand years. Most nights he spent thinking, reflecting on his past and on his current predicament. Tonight was the first night in a while he thought of someone other than himself.

He got up and stretched, changed his shirt, and decided to walk for a while before Haven woke up and started bustling with noise. Solas enjoyed the cool taste of early morning quiet. Slipping past the outer gates in practiced silence (never know when a late-night escape may be necessary) Solas strolled in the darkness with perfect sight, having learned to magically adjust to night vision centuries ago. It was amazing how many practical uses of magic so many mages seemed to miss, too busy making the biggest show of throwing lightening to consider drawing on the power of the fade to manipulate reality. Fen'Harel was always one step ahead of the Evanuris because he never underestimated the potential of magic, never stopped testing its limits or exploring possibilities. Solas continued to walk with his hands behind his back and his spine straight, taking long strides with his lengthy legs. With his shoulders squared, Solas was starting feel more like his alter ego Fen'Harel with each step.

It only took the sound of repeating steps in the distance to shatter that feeling. He returned to being Solas, an elven apostate with a precarious Chantry alliance and a lot of secrets to keep up. Though there was no real reason he shouldn't be out walking here, he didn't feel like explaining himself to anyone either. Every conversation was a chance to slip and say the wrong thing, thus his standard taciturn quietness among other members of the fledgling Inquisition. His conversation with Wendi'i the day before had been the longest string of sentences he had said to a person since the explosion of the Conclave. 

The steps were getting closer, seemingly someone was running alongside Haven’s walls. A soldier on a morning run, perhaps? Solas found cover among some trees and waited for whomever it was to pass.

No. It couldn’t be. It was Wendi’i!

Why was she awake? Why was she running around the perimeter of Haven? Was she reinstating her mana drain? Solas had too many question bouncing around in his head. For a while he just stayed where he was, trying to find reasonable answers to his own questions. He didn't want to run after her, that would alert her to the fact he was spying and look odd. As he tried to decide what to do next there she came again, running at a steady pace around the perimeter. 

This time he made up his mind. He set off in a steady jog, making sure to manipulate the fade to silence his movements and cloud him from sight. When he got close enough he could sense her magic, but it wasn't like the draining process he sensed the day before. There were only small traces of it, like she was only using a portion of her power for some tiny purpose. 

Suddenly, she gravitated away from the perimeter wall. Still running, she made her way through the forest north of Haven and wove in and among the trees as if she could see in the dark. And that's when Solas realized what the magic he was sensing was for...she too had learned to create night vision!

He was thoroughly impressed. He watched as she slowed to a jog, then a walk, and finally stopped at a small creek. She knelt and splashed her face with the icy water then cupped her hands for several drinks. When she rose he could see her features plainly without added night vision as the approaching dawn had filled the air with a pale grey light. She was panting for breath, but her face did not seem to be in distress or pain. Her magic aura ceased as she let go of her night vision, and then she began to make her way up a large hill. Solas followed close behind as Wendi’i approached a leveled clearing on a cliff facing the east. 

By now, dusk had filled the valley with light and the sun would begin to rise any minute. Solas made sure his cloak changed alongside the rapidly changing light so Wendi’i didn't notice his presence. She was dragging something out of nearby bushes. Had she been here before?

It was a bundle of staffs wrapped in a blanket. Wendi’i unrolled the blanket and laid it out in the center of the clearing and sat facing the approaching sunrise. With grace and poise she began to stretch her limbs. He found it odd, it wasn’t the way he stretched before arm strengthening exercises or how he had seen soldiers stretch. She held each position for longer, and moved slowly but with great purpose as the sun rose steadily in front of her. She bent over backwards, and twisted her legs and arms into angles Solas did not think were possible and that frankly made him feel uncomfortably warm inside. This went on for some time, until the sun had completely risen and it was too bright to look at directly. 

Wendi’i ceased stretching and picked up one of the staffs lying to the side. It was hardly a staff at all, just a long stick of wood with no polishing or garnish or orb. She began to move with it in small steps and gestures until Solas realized she was doing a pattern dance. He knew of a few himself, it was a way of practicing movements for spells and optimal casting. But he had never seen this many different patterns. Wendi’i moved through each slowly, just like her stretches, and it wasn’t until she dropped the staff with a solid thud that he realized it was heavily weighted. Pattern dances with a weighted staff?

She was far from finished. The next staff she picked up had an orb but Solas could tell even from the distance he was at that it was not be-spelled or magicked. It was just for show, but the blade attached to the staff was not. It had the dull shine of a practice blade, but it was a legitimate steel knife. Wendi’i stepped into the same sequence of pattern dances, this time with more speed. After a few minutes of this the sequence changed and she introduced a new series of steps. These included jabs and spins and broad sweeps. Solas could easily imagine an opponent being properly gutted by the way Wendi’i was handling the staff. She increased her speed until she and the staff both became a blur, a whirlwind of deadly precision. 

But that, too, came to an end. With heavy breathing Wendi’i set to more stretching, this round more brisk than the last and looking more like what Solas was used to seeing from his observations of soldiers. Once she was done she ignored the last staff, instead lowering herself on the ground and pushing her body up with her arms and hands in what Solas believed was called a push-up. She did several of those with both arms, then switched between just her left arm or just her right. Once Wendi’i was done with that she laid on her back and Solas thought she might be resting at last, but she started pulling her upper body up to meet her thighs with a slight grimace across her face. Thinking of his own abs, which once were as chiseled as stone and now were just barely noticeable, Solas felt slightly intimidated by this display of strength. But it was not a negative feeling and he mostly he was impressed. 

There were a few more variations of these exercises before Wendi’i turned her attention back to her small pile of staffs. The one she had not used yet was a surprisingly simple fire-based staff from what Solas could tell. It wasn’t strong, not nearly as strong as the new staff the Inquisition had given her, but it was capable enough. He watched as Wendi’i went through her first set of pattern dances again, not as slow as with the weighted staff but not as fast as with the blade. At the end of each series of steps, Wendi’i would send a small burst of fire through the clearing. It would always stop before touching anything and fade out before catching the grass or trees, but Solas realized at last what Wendi’i was doing.

By forcing her body to max out her physical limits, Wendi’i was channeling her focus. He had heard of such a technique, but most mages preferred to spend their free time learning new and dangerous spells to decimate enemies and cause large scenes. Solas tended to rely on books and conversations with ancient spirits. This method meant developing the skill to control the body through physical exertion then applying that skill to the control of magic. Solas remembered the mantra of this rare school of teaching...Mind over body, mind over magic. Many skilled mages attempted large spells and were not ready for how much magic the spell would take. Losing control of oneself during such a time often meant disaster for the surrounding area depending on the size of the spell cast. This discipline of magic was developed centuries ago to overcome such a problem, and Solas had no idea it was still being taught. It never held much favor among the modern mages he knew because it made them feel too much like templars. 

Once Wendi’i had finished it was almost mid-morning. Solas had been so enraptured by her movements he hadn’t noticed the passage of time. She wrapped her practice staffs back up in the blanket and stuffed them under the bush again before making her way back to the creek.

Solas followed more out of habit than curiosity at this point, having watched her rigorous training for the better part of the morning it just felt natural to stay along for whatever was next. Wendi’i walked alongside the creek for a ways, straying farther from Haven than ever before. It appeared she was looking for something. Solas was just beginning to wonder what she was doing when Wendi’i seemed to find what she wanted. The stream had pooled into a deep spot with a small waterfall just up ahead. 

Wendi’i began to fiddle with her clothes and Solas felt his face turn bright red as he realized what she was here for…

Within moments, Wendi’i was completely naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out it gets a little steamy ;)


	4. Solas and the Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas watches Wendi'i bathe in the creek with a mixture of lust and shame.

He told himself he was staying for medical reasons, in case she had another collapse, but he knew she had controlled each burst of fire so well each one would have barely scratched her mana levels.

Though he was completely cloaked and made no sound, Wendi’i still turned to face him as though she could sense his presence. Her eyes were searching, for a moment Solas was worried she could see through his magic but then he realized she was looking in the direction of Haven behind him. She stretched out her casting arm and turned around slowly in a perimeter check, and Solas was so breathless from the view he almost didn’t perform a counterspell in time. Somewhere beneath his pulsing heart and pounding arousal he was impressed that she knew enough about the fade to test for the presence of intruders. However his cloaking skills did not stop at merely becoming soundless and invisible, he could also easily avoid the detection of any reaching fade search. 

Wendi’i seemed satisfied with her solitude and slowly immersed herself into the freezing water. Solas sensed she was using her magic to summon fire within and keep her body warm enough to withstand the frosty temperature. She swam and splashed and rubbed her body and Solas could not take his eyes away. Her freckled skin, the hair between her legs, her round buttocks and her breasts with nipples perky from the cold made up too beautiful a display for him to leave. It was intoxicating, and Solas felt his breath become shallow and his member grow hard. He felt ashamed for continuing to watch her but at the same time could not bear to part with the sight. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he even with all of his years of slumber he was still a man with desires. 

It was her startling glance in his direction that snapped him out of his lusty pant. He knew she was looking towards Haven but he couldn’t brush the feeling she knew he was there. Preparing to leave, he felt the need to somehow make up for what he had witnessed with some favor or gesture. Solas eyed the crumpled clothes on the ground and thought of the perfect thing to do for her and it could never be tied to him.

His work complete, he made his way back to Haven with the image of all he had seen burning in his mind and under his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short to contrast the last long POV and to allow for a smoother transition to a Lavellan POV in the next chapter.


	5. The Mage and the Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i just can't shake the feeling someone is watching her.

Wendi’i could not shake the feeling that someone was watching her all morning. 

It hadn't started that way. She had slept off the mana drain by three in the morning, just in time for her to rise at four and prepare for her run. Her body was accustomed to such mornings, she rarely slept past dawn unless she was ill like recently. This would be her first day exercising since closing the rift at the temple, and while she hadn't planned on a full workout regimen she was farther along in her healing than anticipated. That conversation with Solas had held Wendi’i completely enraptured but it had also let her mana healing go on longer than it was supposed to. Her plan had been to go to bed before supper and sleep till early morning then go on a run, do her yoga, and continue the healing process. But then she had let her mana completely drain and if Solas hadn't caught her she would have passed out in the street. 

She felt flushed at the memory as she laced her running moccasins and walked towards the entrance of Haven. It had felt very nice to be held by the elven apostate, even arousing. His arms were deceptively strong and even in her bare grasps on consciousness she could feel the solidness of his abdomen. It was also embarrassing to know she practically fainted in front of him but she shook that from her mind as she began her morning run. She adjusted her vision using the fade so she could see in the darkness, something she had found in a book a long time ago. 

During her run she usually focused on her magic. Though she wasn’t using it, just picturing that pool of power within her while pushing herself forward helped her control the magic later. It was a technique she learned from her clan leader, though where he got it from she had no idea. He didn't practice it himself, he just used it to inspire Wendi’i to use her magic. Until she adopted the mind over magic technique, Wendi’i considered the day her powers appeared to be the worst day of her life. 

The fourth mile was harder than usual because of the recent strain her body had been through, but she ignored the part of her brain telling her to stop and kept pumping. That's around when things started feeling off. Her mark crackled in her palm with a strange energy that would have made a less experienced runner panic and stop but Wendi’i pressed on, her mind full of curiosity. The mark hadn't crackled like that since the Breach stabilized. As she circled Haven’s walls and entered her fifth mile it crackled again, this time settling into a gentle hum. Wendi’i ignored it as this was her last mile and it required mental focus. Usually she would go seven, but she needed to take it easy for a few days. 

Once the fifth mile was over Wendi’i veered off into the woods towards the cliff side clearing she has picked out the day before. She had gone ahead and stowed her practice staffs there setting small wards to keep them hidden, not that she expected anyone out here to care. They weren't special or high quality, but they meant a lot to her. 

As she drank from the creek Wendi’i felt like someone was watching. She glanced around casually, but the woods held nothing but the occasional trill of a bird. It wasn't that she sensed anyone particularly, it just felt like she wasn't alone. She chalked the feeling down to shy animals hiding nearby and continued on with her workout plan. Yoga was her least favorite part of the routine so she liked to pair it with something beautiful like the sunrise. Relaxing was never easy for Wendi’i but she knew the importance of flexibility and patience that yoga enforced. Once the sun was completely in the sky she excitedly turned towards her practice staffs. 

Each staff got its own special attention, the worn wood a comfortable feeling in her calloused hands. Though it had been a while since she could use them, the pattern dances were so ingrained in Wendi’i that the steps almost happened of their own accord. She had been doing them consistently since she was ten years old. The weighted one tested her strength and endurance while she followed the steps of the dance. The bladed one focused on speed and agility, with specific movements imperative to close-quarters combat. 

After the first two staffs she took a short break. Arm and ab strengthening exercises helped channel her focus for the final pattern dance, the only one part of her routine that actually involved magic. The mental game of pushing herself farther physically increased her ability to manage her mana levels and channel her focus. That's how her clan leader, Yorin, sold her on the technique years ago when she was just a magelet. Mind over body, mind over magic. 

The third staff exercise required short, controlled bursts of flame. Wendi’i usually let the flames be a little bigger but she was supposed to take it easy and she didn't want to burn herself out on the first day back. If she had another fainting episode like last night Josephine would keep her trapped in bed for another week at least. Not that Wendi’i had seen the ambassador since their first meeting, but she knew the mothering type when she saw it. 

Once Wendi’i exhausted all the pattern dances she was rather exhausted herself. But not mana-drained, just physically exhausted. No more fainting spells for her. 

It was on the way down the hill that she remembered the creek running nearby and thought how nice it would be to take a swim and cool off. Working out had worked up quite the sweat and while she could take an actual bath in Haven, Wendi’i grew up bathing in creeks and there was something satisfying about it. Finding a deep enough spot took longer than she expected, but once she got there Wendi’i stripped down to nothing without delay. It wasn't until after she had discarded her clothes on the grass nearby that her mark sent a tremor through her body. 

The feeling that someone was watching had never truly gone away, but it felt more oppressing now. Wendi’i looked long and hard towards Haven, but heard no evidence of life nearby. Just in case, she did a perimeter search using the fade to detect whatever life was in a certain circumference. She was definitely alone. Then why did she feel she was still being watched?

Wendi’i did her best to ignore the pressing feeling and enjoy her bath. Since her clan was often on the move, she spent a lot of baths in freezing creeks so she developed a way to magically warm her body and not get hypothermia. Her clan members would just jump in and jump out, but Wendi’i would stay and really swim for a while because she enjoyed the water so much.. 

Her mark sparked again. Wendi’i looked long and hard in the direction she felt the eyes were coming from but the path between her and Haven was silent and still. What was going on?

Again she tried to ignore it, and this time it seemed to work. Slowly, the feeling faded away. Maybe she was just imagining things. Or maybe whoever or whatever it was had left? Wendi’i tried to shake that thought as she got out of the creek. With a shake, willed her skin to warm rapidly and watched as the water on her body completely evaporated into steam. Completely dry, Wendi’i reached for her clothes. The only part she disliked about bathing outdoors was getting into dirty clothes afterwards. That was the one advantage of indoor baths was access to clean clothes when you're done. 

Wendi'i went to pick up her things and gasped. Was that there before?

Underneath her clothes were vibrantly colored wild flowers that smelled strongly of perfume. She had never seen such flowers, and certainly had never smelled flowers so sweet. Wendi'i checked her clothes and sure enough the perfume was so strong she could barely smell the sweat. As she put them on she couldn't help feeling that those flowers were not there before. Sure, she was tired and focusing on the creek but they seemed too bright to miss. 

Wendi'i wondered if she should ask Solas. He was so knowledgeable of the fade, maybe he would know if there was a way to hide from basic perimeter searches like the ones she performed. But that was silly, after all what mage in this remote area would be strong enough to hide like that? She was probably just jumpy from all the crazy things she had been through the past few days. 

On her way back to Haven, Wendi’i had to admit she smelled pretty good. Even though she never would understand where those flowers came from.


	6. The Apostate and the Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas tries to play his cards close to the chest.

Solas snuck into his cabin and made a show of leaving it yawning and rubbing his eyes like he had just woken up. He propped himself against the wall of his cabin like he so often did, observing the passerby absentmindedly while he tried to calm his body down. By the time Wendi’i was back in town and making the rounds among her new companions, Solas felt cool as a cucumber. Until he had to speak. 

“You smell rather nice today,” Solas said when she approached him.

Her eyes squinted slightly and suspicion streaked across her features. Solas cursed himself for his thoughtless comment, a guilt-driven slip of the tongue, and raced to think of another topic of conversation. 

“What I mean is, hello!”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I'd like to know more about you, Solas,” was how Wendi'i responded. Solas immediately felt worried.

“Why?”

“You're an elven mage. Not from the Circle, not from the Dalish. You're an unknown element. If I'm to trust a self-taught apostate with my life, I need to know more about him.”

Solas sighed with relief inwardly that she didn't ask where he had been that morning. He knew his cloaking spells were impossible to detect, but the weight of what he had seen still pressed against him. Outwardly, Solas responded as casually as possible. 

“I don't see myself as self-taught, but then, since I have not told you, you'd have no way of knowing that. Alright. What can I tell you?”

Luckily for him, Wendi'i mostly asked about the fade and spirits. It was easier to talk to her than he had imagined, and he found himself sharing his opinions on the subjects a little too strongly than his caution usually allowed. She just seemed so genuinely interested, not judgemental or disbelieving. Her questions of his beliefs were not asked with sarcasm but with curiosity. Solas had never met such a remarkable woman, which is why he found himself responding with more and more openness. 

What was it about this woman that made him speak without thinking first?


	7. The Mage and the Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i gets an idea of what happened that day.

He thought she smelled nice.

No one else Wendi'i had talked to after returning to Haven noticed the perfume. After all, the scent was not superbly noticeable after trekking through the woods for a while. Yet when she approached Solas, he thought she smelled nice. And was she imagining it, or did he look slightly panicked afterwards? 

Wendi'i decided to probe. It was easy to start with because she truly wanted to know more about him, but she tried to play it off as a dutiful investigation. Very soon it became a fascinating conversation. Though Wendi'i focused her own magic on physical aspects and treated it like a weapon or tool, she had always admired academic mages like her clan leader and this Solas. The fade held endless possibilities, and while she was not sure of everything Solas expressed about it she still was interested to hear his take on it all. 

It was after he had finished explaining how he began studying the fade that the conversation turned from interesting to intriguing. Wendi'i had wished him luck in becoming a more interesting person and being able to discover more areas of the fade. 

“Thank you. In truth, I have enjoyed experiencing more of life in order to find more of the fade,” Solas responded. 

“How so?” Wendi'i asked.

“You train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit. You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike because it leads you to a destination you enjoy. As have I.”

Wendi'i raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smirk. 

“Indomitable focus?”

“Presumably,” he said. “I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be...fascinating.” 

Wendi'i gave a small, flirty laugh. Having exhausted all the questions she could think of, she took her leave and made her way back to her cabin for some private thought and a change of clothes. 

He was definitely there, she had decided. The perfume comment had aroused suspicions but the way the conversation had gone was the confirmation. First of all, he was an academic mage with intimate knowledge of the fade. If anyone could create a cloaking spell to evade a fade search, it would be him. Secondly, his flirty observation of her focus made her realize he must have seen her exercising because the only other time he had seen her use magic was the day she closed the Breach and that was constant chaos. There was no way he could have made such an observation in all of that mess. But if he saw her working out he could easily have formed such an opinion. What a sneaky bastard...if it hadn't have been for her mark she might have never known. It was her mark that seemed to sense his presence, for whatever reason. Perhaps it had a higher sensitivity for the fade.

Wendi'i knew she should be furious and probably creeped out, but she wasn’t. After all, she did think he was attractive and she enjoyed their conversations. 

That’s always how it works, isn't it? She thought to herself. It's creepy if you don't like the guy, but if you do like him it's hot.

And it was hot, to her at least. It meant she could be a little more aggressively flirty. It also meant she could make the next few conversations very uncomfortable for him with little comments here and there alluding to what she knew almost for certain. Wendi'i smiled at the thought of the effects her teasing would have. 

That night she pleasured herself to the thought. Touching her sensitive clit she rolled her fingers around and imagined what today would have been like if she had known he was there. She had no qualms about how far she would go, it was her body and she was confident with it. The orgasm that rolled through her at long last was powerful and satisfying, and she hoped that Solas was having a similar reaction to the day.


	8. The Dread Wolf and the Similar Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Yes he did.

Very much so. Finally alone, Solas spent a long time reflecting on not just the beautiful bathing scene (though that made up most of the masturbation part) but the fascinating conversation he had with Wendi'i. She was incredible! So open-minded and eager to listen and hear another opinion, which was so rare in the Dalish elves he had met. 

But that bathing scene...her naked body shining in the sun...it had been a couple thousand years since Solas had a cum this carnal and hungry.


	9. The Mage and the Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hinterlands are full of dangerous battles and new revelations.

The trip to the Hinterlands was pleasant. Varric told stories, Cassandra made a lot of disgusted grunts and secret smiles, and Wendi’i managed to take Solas off guard once with a small comment about how it was a pity there were not any flowers of real substance and scent in bloom yet. The passing look of panic and concern amused Wendi'i to no end, but she played it off innocently enough. 

It was once they got to the Hinterlands that things took a sour turn. The land was torn asunder by the waging war and evidence of upheaval was everywhere. Steaming corpses scorched with fire and glassy eyed bodies with gut wounds and missing limbs. Wendi'i got very quiet, and Solas rode his horse up close to hers. 

“First time seeing the carnage of war?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” Wendi'i replied softly. “I traveled through parts of the bloody Orlesian civil war to get to the Conclave but that was mostly fought with swords. I've never seen such damage done by mages before.”

It was true. In all her life, Wendi'i had only met a handful of other magic users as her clan leader and herself were the only mages of the clan. 

“It can be a terrible thing, when a mage willingly wields their power to further death and destruction in such a senseless manner.”

“I never wanted to be a mage, you know,” Wendi'i almost whispered, trying to comprehend the amount of innocent lives caught up in all this. Solas seemed surprised, but before he could question her further she galloped ahead to close the final distance between herself and the scouting camp. 

Scout Harding was a badass, Wendi'i decided. There was no other explanation for a dwarf like her to be in charge of an entire scouting troop. She carried herself with such an easy confidence that Wendi'i had an immediate respect for her. 

They didn't get a lot of time to chat, though. It wasn't long before the team was moving quietly towards the Crossroads. Cassandra rattled off some ground rules of team fighting and watching each other’s backs and staying vigilant but Wendi'i wasn't worried about the fighting part. She was more nervous about this Mother Giselle. Could they be walking into a trap?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of battle. With a war cry Cassandra lead the charge into the fray and everyone followed suit. Solas set up barriers around each team member and began blasting away with his staff. Varric hung back and covered everyone with crossbow fire. Cassandra plunged into the thick of things with sword and shield raised high. Wendi’i took a deep breath, slung her own staff into place, and stepped into a pattern dance. Right, left, foot here, blast, then there, blast, hold, double blast, spin, blast. It was a familiar rhythm that her muscles could perform on auto-pilot, freeing her mind to scan the surrounding area for sneak attacks or surprises. It also allowed her to switch targets at a moment's notice, as fighting with a team meant going for the kill only to have a bolt appear in the middle of their forehead from Varric’s bow or be frozen in place by Solas’ staff. But that was the beauty of the dance, part routine and part improvisation. 

It was towards the end of the second wave that the templar tried to cut Wendi’i down from behind. He had been hiding in some rubble, but Wendi’i always had her sensors up for the area around her so she was not taken by surprise. If anyone was surprised it was Cassandra when her warning cry died in her throat as Wendi’i pivoted on the balls of her feet and raised her staff to meet the attacker. Or perhaps the templar himself, when her arms didn’t buckle under the force of his blow and he found his sword caught on the metal hook Wendi’i had specially made for her staff. With a grim smile Wendi’i kicked the templar’s unprotected shin as hard as she could and side-stepped his feeble attempt at a blow while he went down. One quick swipe was all it took to slit his throat with her staff’s blade. Wendi’i turned to avoid the spray of blood then readied her stance for the next wave. 

The silence of the moment made her feel uncomfortable. Until Cassandra spoke up.

“That was...impressive work for a mage. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“I don’t like to use magic close-range,” Wendi’i admitted with a half-hearted attempt at a smile. She hated killing people and her stomach was starting to feel sick from all the killing she had to do today.

“Brutal, but efficient,” Varric conceded with a tone equal parts casual observation and compliment. 

“Be careful,” Solas warned, “more coming our way!”

The last wave was the shortest. Any rogue templars or apostates left around the Crossroads would actively avoid it now that the Inquisition had officially claimed it. Wendi’i was even more worried about meeting Mother Giselle now. She was a Dalish elf after all, and there were a lot of dead humans in the street. So many dead. 

Wendi’i felt a hand on her shoulder. 

“You did well,” Solas said. “Whatever happens, remember we are all behind you.” 

Wendi’i saw compassion and honesty in his eyes. He meant what he said. It warmed her heart, and she awarded him with the first real smile she had made all day. 

The meeting went surprisingly well. It was a relief to know at least some of the Chantry did not despise her, even if it did mean traveling to Val Royeaux and that brought its own set of nerves and excitement. That night they camped at the Crossroads among the refugees, Varric bringing in some ram meat with the crossbow he oddly named Bianca and Solas creating a magical fire that could last all night without tending. Talking to the refugees helped alleviate some of the sickness Wendi'i was still feeling from the battle. They were all such hearty people, doing the best to keep their families safe. She already had a list of tasks to do at first light like help get a sick woman’s medicine and hunt more ram for soup. Her heart hurt for these people, displaced from their homes and lives as they knew it all due to someone else’s war. She knew how that could feel. 

With everyone gone to bed, Wendi’i decided to take a walk alone to clear her mind of all the day’s happenings. She didn’t get far before Solas fell in step beside her.

“It is inadvisable to walk alone in these dangerous times,” he said.

“You saw me today. I can handle myself,” Wendi’i said without looking at him.

“You misunderstand me,” Solas replied, “it is not a subject for debate. I mean no offense.”

“None taken,” Wendi’i responded. 

For a while they walked in silence. Though she had intended to walk alone, it was nice to have this company. Just his presence seemed to calm her down. She let out a long, slow breath and Solas was the first to break the silence.

“Is...there anything I can do?” he asked.

“What? No. I mean, I’m alright,” Wendi’i responded. “It’s just been a long day, and usually I run to clear my head.” She looked out at the ink black woods beyond the light of the Crossroads. “But there is nowhere to run here. So I resort to other methods.”

“And what would those be?”

“Talking, for one,” Wendi’i half smiled at him. “I find that talking helps. Provided the audience is adequate.” 

Solas chuckled. “I hope to make an adequate audience. So, what would you like to discuss?”

Wendi’i laughed. “Anything but death and despair.”

“Then may I ask a question?”

“I’m an open book,” Wendi’i replied.

“Why did you never want to be a mage?”

Wendi’i was silent a moment. She never had a problem talking about it, she just wanted to start at the right place.

“My father was a mage. He...died when a spell he cast blew up back at him. They say he cast it at a bandit but the bandit was too close and had a shield that reflected the blast back at him. The idea of magic kind of freaked me out after that, you know?”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Solas said sincerely. 

“I was only four, so I don’t remember everything super well, but it was enough to make me hope and pray I wouldn’t develop any magic of my own. Guess that didn’t work.”

“Are you a very religious person?” Solas asked, with a strange tone Wendi’i couldn’t read any meaning in to.

“Not particularly. My mother died giving birth to me, so once my father was gone I was an orphan. I was taken care of by the clan but I was always in trouble with our hahren. She was an old hag who half the time got my name wrong. How could anyone believe she held the oral traditions of centuries of elves, right? The fool couldn’t even remember where she left her cloak half of the time. It didn’t make any logical sense to me so I called bullshit whenever I could. That didn’t earn me a lot kindness from the other clan members. You know how the Dalish are about their traditions.”

“I do indeed,” Solas replied (the strange tone gone, Wendi’i noted). “But if your clan members disliked you, how did you become the First?”

“Well no one was happy about it, that’s for sure, least of all me. But we didn’t have any mages beside the Keeper, and Clan Lavellan was desperate. They’re probably pretty happy this whole Inquisition thing means they’re finally rid of me. And no love lost there. I’ll miss Keeper Yorin, he is the greatest man I have ever known and I will always have great respect for him. But the Inquisition with all of its death and despair was actually the perfect opportunity for me to get away.”

“An odd thing to hear from a Dalish elf,” Solas noted. “But if you didn't want to be a mage, what did you want to be?”

Wendi'i sighed. 

“I wanted to be a runner, the person who delivers messages ahead of the clan to landowners and lords and towns. It's not an easy job, especially if the town you are asking to trade with is hostile towards the Dalish. But it meant being able to see more of the world than if I stayed with the clan, and I was confident I could outrun any danger. I could ignore the burning in my lungs and the fire in my legs and keep pumping, keep pushing, until all of my problems disappeared into dust.”

“The day of the race to decide the runners I was eight. I was the youngest one there but everyone expected me to place, and since runners spent a lot of time out of the camp the clan was happy to see me win. I made it across that finish line several seconds before anyone else, and I jumped and hollered and raised my hands to the sky in glee. I think that was the only time in my life I ever considered the gods could be real, and watching over me. But as my hands reached towards the clouds, fire erupted from my palms and soared upwards. It fizzled out before anyone could be hurt but everyone saw it happen. They disqualified me as a runner because they were so desperate for another mage and no one wanted to ask another clan for their extras. I was shuffled off to Keeper Yorin’s hut and I never believed in gods again.”

“Good,” Solas responded firmly. 

“What do you mean?” Wendi'i asked. 

“Believing in gods will only let you down. Your strength of will, your character, your faith in yourself will get you farther than any false god ever could. You are capable of greatness completely on your own. I know it to be true.”

By this time they had circled the edges of the camp and returned to the tents. Their words were barely whispers now. Wendi'i looked up at his earnest face with her own eyes filled to the brim with gratitude. 

“Thank you, Solas. I...think I needed to hear that.”

“I will be by your side to repeat it whenever needed,” he responded softly. “Good night, and sleep well.”

Those last words sent shivers down her spine as she thought of the last time they were said. Wendi'i flopped onto her cot with a happy sigh, better prepared for the dreams to come than she had been for a very long time.


	10. The Mage and the Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i wonders at Solas' strange behavior.

For the next week or so there was little time for deep conversations. By day, the team traveled around the Hinterlands fighting demons and bandits and running errands for the refugees and townsfolk. By nightfall they were all so exhausted they collapsed into their tents. But Wendi'i noticed there was a steady increase in her comfort level with these used-to-be strangers. Cassandra was her captor not but two weeks ago yet now Wendi'i saw she was more than just a fierce fighter. She had loyalty and a dogged determination to do whatever was necessary to complete the task at hand. When Varric made his jabs and jokes and she rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust, Wendi'i could tell it wasn't all she felt. She truly cared for the dwarf. And she cared for Wendi’i, which was a new and surprising thing for her. More than once she noticed Cassandra look at her with respect in her eyes and each time it made Wendi'i feel...odd. 

It happened with Varric, too. He was considerate around her but not in an overly invasive way. Wendi'i had known people in her life who would go out of their way to help her because they wanted something in return or because they thought her incapable of doing whatever it was alone. But Varric, with his tall tales just as the stress of the day was starting to sink in and his covert way of directing the flow of conversation away from subjects he could tell Wendi’i didn't want to discuss, he was just using his own talents to make everyone feel better in small ways. And more than one time he complimented Wendi'i while she felt like shit inside, like he could see on her face that something was upsetting her but he never pointed it out and for that Wendi’i was very grateful. 

The feelings of turmoil inside came from Solas. After that deep conversation where she really put herself out there, he started withdrawing in himself during even their chit-chat. She couldn't figure this guy out. They were getting along so well, really clicking. He obviously found her attractive and she had to admit there was something about him that made her blood run hot under her skin. But all of a sudden, it just turned off. And what was worse, sometimes it would come back on. Life would spring into his eyes once more and she could feel their connection sparking, but like fireflies in the night it would blink in and out with no discernible pattern. Wendi'i came up with a dozen scenarios in her head every day to explain his behavior but none of them fit. 

The kicker was she really liked him. It wasn't fun to tease him about the flowers anymore because she didn't like to see him so uncomfortable. Solas had an intelligence that seemed to know no bounds and when he talked about the fade or some other subject of study he liked his eyes would brighten and his eyebrows would raise and his voice would get this wistful tone peppered with childlike excitement. There was nothing more enrapturing for Wendi'i than to see someone talk with such passion about a subject they obviously loved. Sometimes it got near rambling, but she enjoyed prompting him further just to continue that look in his eye. But then, she only got such moments in snippets these days. 

After what seemed like years traversing the Hinterlands, the party turned back towards Haven. It went a little faster than the journey down because they had Master Dennet’s horses now, which were much healthier and stronger than the nags they had before. They also had access to several scouting camps where they could stop and rest instead of building camps of their own. Everyone was exhausted, but they were leaving the Hinterlands in a better state than when they left it so it was a happy kind of tired. 

One night Varric rose from the fire with a sigh and a grunt. 

“Alright, that's it. After riding on those huge horses all day, I need to stretch these stubby legs. Guess I'll do a perimeter check. Who wants to keep me from dying alone in the night?”

Wendi'i wanted to but she was so tired she could barely move.

“Wendi'i is disqualified on account of being too sleepy. I would die in minutes out there. And judging by the glare from the Seeker that's a no there, so I guess it's just you and me Chuckles.”

Wendi'i loved the nicknames Varric doled out, but this time she didn't laugh. Today had been one of the off days with Solas. 

“Very well, child of the stone,” Solas replied. 

So the two left the camp and walked off in the dark. Wendi'i was stewing over the day in her head when Cassandra spoke up and startled her.

“You know, I have seen a lot of fighters over the years but you are one of the best staff wielders I have ever seen. And not the magic part, but the way you use the shaft and the blade to disarm and dispatch your enemies. If you would have me, I would appreciate the opportunity to spar with you back in Haven.”

Wendi'i grinned widely. 

“I think that's the highest compliment I've ever received. A sparring invitation from the Cassandra Pentaghast, Lady Seeker and professional badass? How could I refuse such an honor?”

Cassandra looked like she was trying to decide if this was a joke and whether or not she should be offended. Wendi'i decided to put her out of her misery. 

“I have a couple of practice staffs for my own use. One is a bladed staff without any magical orbs or spells on it. It should be perfect for sparring.”

Cassandra smiled, and Wendi'i noticed the almost childlike happiness that rare smile held. And she felt truly honored that an actual knight was talking to her, a mage, like an equal as a fighter. It was surreal. 

“At the risk of being impertinent,” Cassandra asked slowly, “may I ask where you picked up such a technique? And why you use it?”

Wendi'i tried to give Cassandra an encouraging smile, she could tell this sort of personal conversation was not in the Seeker’s wheelhouse. 

“It's alright, really. When I first got my magic, I was terrified. I had heard stories of mages losing their control and hurting those around them, my own father died from a spell gone wrong--”

“Oh! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry you don't have to continue,” Cassandra exclaimed.

“It's fine, really! I'm perfectly alright to talk about it.”

Cassandra didn't look completely assured but she didn't say anything to stop Wendi'i from continuing. 

“Our clan’s Keeper, Yorin, could tell the traditional ways of study were not working with me. I was just too terrified of myself. But he was a scholar at heart, so he dug through countless tomes and old scrolls to find a school of magic to help me. That's when he found the ancient method of focus training. The idea is mind over body, mind over magic. I was a long distance runner as a child, so he knew the physical approach would appeal to me. It involves vigorous workouts to push your body to the breaking point and beyond, and using that strength of will to control one’s magic. It helped me feel comfortable in my own skin, comfortable enough to control my magic and wield it. But even though I got past the point of fear, it doesn’t stop me from being cautious. And honestly, I enjoy the exhilaration of learning and mastering new staff techniques.”

“That is so fascinating,” Cassandra said breathlessly. “It was kind of this Keeper Yorin to discover the school of study for you.”

Wendi’i smiled at the memory. 

“Yes, he is a great man. He was never stubborn and close-minded like so many other Keepers. He loved to read and discover new knowledge. Our clan was not popular at large Dalish gatherings because Yorin would actually question those who claimed to have new knowledge of our lore and history. He never blamed me for my disbelief in it all. He was...like a father to me. The best I could ever have.”

“That is very touching,” Cassandra replied happily.

For a moment, the two women just enjoyed feelings of mutual respect and closeness. Then Varric and Solas returned from their walk and everyone started to prepare for bed. Wendi’i smiled to herself as she walked towards her tent, but looked up in mild concern when she saw Solas was standing by the entrance. He had an odd look on his face, but before she could say anything he spurted out,

“You seem to be in a good mood. That’s nice. Perhaps you and the Lady Seeker had a pleasant conversation?”

“We did,” Wendi’i said slowly and cautiously, “it was very nice indeed.”

“Wonderful,” Solas responded, “the child of the stone and I had a pleasant chat as well.”

Wendi’i glanced at the dwarf out of the corner of her eye, and he was entering his own tent with a look of false innocence. Cassandra had already fallen asleep based on the snores. That left just her and Solas. 

“That’s nice to hear. Well, it’s been a long day and i should probably get some rest.”

“Wendi’i,” Solas whispered, softly and earnestly in a way that gave her goosebumps. She looked up at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” he said mournfully, eyes filled with pain. “I have been unfair. I have been distant without reason and it has hurt you. Please know that I did not intend it to be rude, however I see now how much it was. You opened yourself to me in friendship and it has been so long since I had a true friend I did not know how to react and therefore I withdrew. I humbly ask for your forgiveness for the pain this has caused you.”

Wendi’i sighed.

“Of course I forgive you, Solas. I want us to be friends. We are friends, right?”

Solas smiled. 

“Yes, we are friends. Goodnight, Lavellan. Sleep well.”

There were those words again. Sleep well. Those two words always caused a stir within her. Wendi’i was glad Solas apologized, even if it was from Varric’s prompting. She didn’t know how she felt about the dwarf interfering in her personal life but they were a team and the disconnect with Solas had caused for some awkward moments. She supposed it was for the best. It was sort of cute that Solas was afraid of amiable interaction. Now they could move forward as friends. 

And perhaps more than friends.


	11. The Apostate and the Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas gets a stern talking to.

The night Wendi'i explained to him why she never wanted to be a mage, Solas became very afraid. Her story had moved him, had only increased his admiration of her. And she looked so beautiful in the firelight! In that moment he had wanted their closeness to linger on forever and that was frightening. He had to control himself. His mission did not include these complicated feelings. 

He tried to return to his characteristic aloofness and nonchalance, but he found himself slipping right and left. It was just too easy to talk to her, she had such an eager ear and genuine interest written all over her face. Not to mention her wit and report with him, which also promoted loose talking and more admiration. It was impossible to stay completely away, but he tried. Eventually she seemed to stop prompting conversation as often and he somewhat relaxed. 

Then Varric asked for company on a walk. He found it odd, but everything about the dwarf was odd. For some reason Solas would never discern, the child of the stone had taken to calling him “Chuckles.” Solas did not understand him, but enjoyed his sharp wit and stories in the quiet moments. 

The walk started out in easy silence. Solas should have taken that as a sign something was off, Varric was rarely quiet, but at the time he thought nothing of it. Then the dwarf spoke.

“You know, don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh with the little missy?”

“I...do not comprehend your meaning.”

“Look, I’m a writer Chuckles. We have constantly active imaginations. The two of you go out on some long walk in the night, and then suddenly you start clamping up with her in conversations. It's not difficult to imagine what might have happened. Did she come on too strong when she hit on you, and you’re just afraid of commitment? Or did you hit on her and she was more receptive than expected so now you're having second thoughts?”

“Neither,” Solas stammered, completely off put. “We had a simple conversation.”

Varric have a dry laugh. 

“Well it was anything but simple. Since every time you snub her attempts at talking to you she gets that sad doe eyed look that drives me crazy. It's usually not my place to say, but we are expecting this kid to close a massive hole in the sky and she is going to need all the support she can get. However you feel about her, being her friend is what's most important right now.”

“You speak wisely, child of the stone,” Solas responded. 

What Varric said cut him to core deeper than the dwarf would ever know. He was relying on Wendi’i to fix the mess he created, and hurting her emotionally on top of that. It had been so long since he had to consider how others felt due to his actions and he hadn't considered at all how unfair it all was to her. She was innocent in this affair. And he should be there for her, to help her through, no matter his fears of betraying himself. It was his fault the Breach came to be and she would need his help. Being there for her as a friend was a duty he owed her. 

“Thank you,” Solas said while looking Varric in the eye. “I feel I've been quite the fool in all of this.”

“We all play the fool now and again. The important thing is always to set things right when and where you can.” 

And so Solas apologized. And that night he lay awake and cursed himself for his selfishness and shortsightedness. He hated this guilt, the guilt of the fact he hurt such a kind and wonderful person out of a stupid desire to protect himself. And from Varric’s intonation it sounded as if he thought Wendi'i actually cared for Solas in a deeper way...the idea of it made him tingle from head to toe. But surely that was impossible now, he could only attempt to offer the best friendship and support he could. 

They returned to Haven at long last and Solas was glad to see Wendi’i fall back into her workout routine as soon as she could now that he knew how happy they made her. He no longer followed her, but he couldn't help growing hard at the thought of what he knew was occurring. Dreams of her naked body filled his mind and his muscles grew taut with lust. It took all of his self-control not to hide within the fade once more and see her for himself. He did not have full confidence in his abilities anymore, however, since he had the sneaking suspicion she knew he was there. She mentioned the scent of flowers with a sly smile on more than one occasion. It made him slightly paranoid. No, as much as the thought of her shoulder in his mouth and his hands on her stomach and breasts, he knew he needed to refrain. She needed no distractions from closing the Breach. And besides, he felt no one as spectacular as she could ever possibly want him in that way. He was nothing but a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I will get back to smut eventually I'm just really enjoying where the story is going. It's really writing itself, I have no idea how it's all flowing out but I'll reign it in and make it juicy soon.


	12. The Mage and the Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's good to remember that Solas is not the only attractive person in Haven.

Val Royeaux was pretty but stressful to Wendi'i. The Orlesian masks freaked her out big time. Then the Templars punched down an old woman right before her eyes and Solas had to hold Wendi'i back from flying at him with her fists. She may not agree with the Chantry Mothers but she respected her elders. That Lucius fellow made Wendi'i want to stuff one of those pretty cobblestones down his throat and then punch him in the gut. She knew Cassandra would want to find a way to work with the templars still, but she wasn't so sure she could look past that. Not to mention just being in the presence of templars made her feel uneasy. Wendi'i had heard too many stories of what they could do and had done. 

Then they met the strangest elf with a penchant for pranks and not making a lot of sense. Sara, she was called, and she wanted to join the inquisition. Fine by Wendi'i, they need all the help they could get, but she was intrigued by how much Solas instantly disliked her. Of course Wendi'i found her eccentric and rather frustrating, but it took a lot to really piss Wendi'i off the way Solas seemed to be around the elf. 

Her relationship with Solas had gotten a lot better after the apology. They got back to talking for long hours whenever possible, but those moments were fleeting these days much to her dismay. But just the fact they were friends again was enough for her. Well, enough for the time being. 

Before they left to return to Haven, Wendi'i attended the fanciest party she had ever seen. An intimidating mage by the name of Vivienne wanted to join the Inquisition as well. The woman rubbed Wendi'i the wrong way with her dramatic flair style of magic, but she wasn't about to turn away help. 

Back in Haven with two new recruits and a whole lot of thinking, Wendi'i needed to go on a run. She laced her running moccasins and started towards the gates before dawn the day after their return. 

“May I join you?” 

She turned around, startled by another voice this early and even more startled by the speaker. 

“Commander Cullen,” Wend’i said with considerable surprise. “I suppose there's no reason why not, but I won't slow down for you I hope you realize.”

He laughed heartily, a warm laugh that Wendi'i enjoyed hearing more than she wanted to. 

“I would never ask you to, but you may be underestimating me you know. Leading an entire troop around Haven’s walls is a bit different from keeping pace with one person.”

He matched step beside her on the way to the gates. Dressed for running instead of commanding, Cullen looked a lot less like a templar and more like a ruddy foot soldier. His well-defined muscles rippled under a thin cotton shirt and his shoulders seemed even more broad without the fur cloak. Wendi'i tried to keep herself from staring. 

They started their run at an easy pace, like Wendi'i usually began. At first she thought it was just going to be a quiet run, but then Cullen began speaking every few hundred yards. 

“So I hear there is to be a sparring match between you and our Lady Seeker. I can't say I'm not looking forward to watching. From the way she talks, you could teach my troops a lesson or two on close combat spear fighting.” 

“I wouldn't say I'm as impressive as all that,” Wendi'i replied. 

She increased her speed on the second mile. He matched her pace. 

“Well then should I place my bets on Cassandra, or do you think that is an unwise investment?”

“I won't tell you what to do with your money, Commander. But you were right when you said it should be an interesting match.”

On the third mile it started to get difficult to talk and breath but somehow both kept up the conversation. 

“Can I make a bet with you, then?” Commander Cullen asked between huffs. 

“What's that?” Wendi'i asked, a little breathless herself. 

“If you win, you have to give an educational demonstration to my troops.”

“Who’s to say I won't throw the whole match on terms like that?” Wendi'i retorted, surprised Cullen had been able to keep up this long.

“Because if you lose,” Cullen coughed out as they rounded their fifth mile, “you have to, I don't know, put up with me slowing you down on all your morning runs from now on.”

Wendi'i smiled at the idea. It should have inspired her to win the match but she actually was enjoying his company. They kept running, keeping up light banter and conversation along the way. 

“How many miles do you normally run?” Cullen finally asked wearily.

“I like to complete about seven or eight,” Wendi'i replied, “but I think we can slow to a halt about now. To be honest, I lost track of which one we were on a little while back.”

Slowly, barely jogging the last mile, the two stopped running with gulps of breath and wobbly legs. They had run ten miles without really meaning to, and while Wendi'i was capable of such a distance it wasn't what she had prepared herself for today and she had only just returned from traveling. 

“I need to run with you more often,” Cullen panted out, “you push me farther than I'd ever go on my own. Are you sure you want to win this spar with Cassandra?”

“Don't tempt me to throw the match, Commander, or your troops will never get their lesson,” Wendi'i stated with good humor. 

“Perhaps they don't need one after all,” Cullen said seriously enough for Wendi'i to feel herself blush. Luckily, the red in her cheeks could easily be attributed to the run. 

“I, uh, usually do more exercises after this but that run was rather intense,” Wendi'i panted. “Back to Haven, then?”

As they walked back, sweating profusely, Wendi'i wondered how she got along so easily with Cullen. Then she remembered why she had gone on the run in the first place and the decision she needed to make. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Wendi'i asked carefully. 

“Of course,” Cullen responded.

She took a deep breath. 

“If I were to go ask the templars for help, would they...listen to me? I know they are capable of helping close the Breach and I know better than anybody how unstable mages can be, but would they be willing to work alongside a Dalish mage they don't know?”

Cullen was silent a moment before responding.

“To be honest, I'm not sure. I would like to say yes, but the antagonistic behavior and corruption in the ranks are reasons I left the Order in the first place. I think they would be the better option between the two, but you do have a point. I'm not positive they would listen to you.”

“I appreciate the honesty, Commander Cullen,” Wendi'i said as they approached her cabin. “And please know you're welcome to join me any morning to run, not just if I lose the match.”

Cullen laughed. 

“I'll have to wait and see if my knees survive the rest of the day.” 

He left her wondering if meeting with the templars was a bad idea or not. Or perhaps she just had a weak spot for handsome soldiers with rippling muscles.


	13. The Apostate and the Dread Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas struggles with his feelings for Wendi'i and a new jealousy.

The day of the sparring match had finally arrived. Word of mouth had spread and everyone was chattering with excitement for what some thought would be a total shutdown and others expected would be a tough fight. Solas was not particularly interested in the fight itself, but he enjoyed any opportunity to watch Wendi'i move. More than once Solas had almost gotten creamed by a blow on the battlefield because he was watching the graceful mage out of the corner of his eye. 

A crowd had gathered around the sparring grounds. Bets were whispered in hushed tones, all eyes on the place where the mage and the Seeker would cross staffs. Solas found a good vantage point due to his height. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he was hoping to catch her eye and maybe give an encouraging smile. That's what friends did, right?

Solas watched as Cassandra entered the grounds with a characteristic scowl at the gathered crowd. He could tell she was about to shout at them to disperse but Leliana held her back, whispering in her ear probably something to do with morale. Then, in a simple cotton tunic and breeches that Solas noticed fit quite snugly and caused his eyes to widen and roam, Wendi'i stepped out. Before she could properly enter the grounds, a hand on her shoulder made her pause. Solas looked to the owner and realized it was Commander Cullen. Giving her advice on the match perhaps?

Cullen said something to Wendi'i that made her smile. Solas frowned. Wendi'i had responded with a sideways glance that made his blood run hot, then cold. As she sauntered towards the grounds Solas saw Cullen’s eyes follow those hips and those snug fitting breeches, the same ones that had caught his eye. No. She couldn't be interested in a former templar, it just couldn't be! And Cullen...from what Solas understood he would have a hard time being interested in any mage. But Wendi'i was no ordinary mage, a fact that was proven by the match that was soon to begin. 

In that moment of jealousy Solas’ guard fell and his mind and body hammered with his repressed feelings of lust. Time seemed to slow as Wendi'i walked towards the fighting area, and Solas saw a dozen scenes flash before his mind’s eye. The scene of her bathing that golden morning, what could have happened if he had revealed himself and she had been receptive, his hands around those saucy hips and his mouth hard and hot against hers. He would kiss every freckle on her body. He would pleasure her all throughout the night and taste her sweetness. Solas knew in that moment that the feelings he had were never going to go away. 

He watched as the two women faced each other. But his eyes were glued to his freckled Aphrodite, and for the first time in a long time he felt as hungry as a wolf.


	14. The Warrior and the Seeker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sparring match between Cassandra and Wendi'i has become a high stakes sporting event for bored Haven residents.

The crowd had Wendi'i taken aback. She wasn't sure why so many people seemed to care this was happening. It didn't bother her, all of her life the clan members would gather to whisper snide comments while she practiced her staff work. They all wanted to see the mage who thought she was a fighter. Even when she started getting good, they still laughed at her. After a while, she learned to tune them out. She would focus on her pattern dances and the movement of her limbs and block out the rest of the world. This would be no different. 

Before she could walk out on the grounds, Cullen put a hand on her shoulder. 

“In regards to our little bet, Lavellan, I don't know if I can keep up with you every day. You may just have to win the match and let me off the hook.”

“Now why would I do that, Commander?” Wendi'i responded with a sly smile. “When there is any chance at all I could measure my miles by how many times I lap you?”

She bounded into the sparring grounds with a spring in her step, knowing how good her ass looked in her current clothes. Wendi'i had learned a long time ago that loose clothing caught in the wind and slowed her momentum down. She wove her own workout clothes to be tight fitting for that reason, to make her movements as efficient as possible. A pleasing side benefit was the way it caught the eye and showed off her hard earned body with its well-toned muscles and perfect ass. 

But the energy was short lived. She had caught a glimpse of Solas in the crowd, and he had looked back at her in a carnal way that both pleased her and frightened her. As fun as it was to flirt with Cullen, he was witty and very attractive, it didn't mean her feelings for Solas had disappeared. They had just been put on the back burner until she had worked out a way to approach him next. But it was time for the match and these thoughts had to be put aside. 

Wendi'i and Cassandra faced each other. Immediately Wendi'i noticed that the crowd bothered her opponent. The cheers, the bets, the chatter, it was all a distraction that would work to her advantage because she knew how to tune it out. Before Wendi'i had assumed it would be a good practice match but Cassandra would easily win. Now, she wasn't so sure it was that hopeless. 

The starting bell rang. Wendi'i immediately stepped into a slow and steady pattern dance. Step, jab, block, step, turn, step, jab, block, step, and so on. Cassandra easily blocked her blows and Wendi'i countered each strike against her almost effortlessly. The fighters were getting a feel for each other’s style. Wendi'i noticed Cassandra was an opportunistic and impatient fighter beneath all of that training and learned restraint. When Wendi'i entered the third rotation of her pattern dance Cassandra started pressing forward with blows in the weaker moments of the steps. Wendi'i blocked each one, her practiced reflexes drawing her arms up to defend herself before her mind fully processed the small movements that tipped it off. A tightened grip on the shaft, a minor rotation of the foot, a clenched jaw or twitch of the shoulder told her brain to defend without delay. Of course, a clenched jaw didn't work as a tell in this match. Cassandra’s jaw was always clenched. 

Without warning, Wendi'i switched into a different pattern dance. As expected, Cassandra was taken by surprise by the new combination of blows and steps but also as expected she recovered quickly. But Wendi'i was beginning to notice things that worked in her favor. 

On the battlefield, with a sword and shield in hand, Cassandra was as unstoppable as the gale of a storm. Wendi'i had seen the lady knight descend into the chaos of battle with grim determination and a constant energy, slashing right and left and plowing through enemies. But right now, Cassandra was distracted by the noise of the gathered crowd. Her annoyance at their participation was stealing from her overall focus. Years of training had given Cassandra form and formula to her fighting, but Wendi'i knew the depth of the Seeker’s impatience. If she played the long game, there was a chance that patience would snap. 

So Wendi'i went mostly on defense, meeting Cassandra’s blows every time while only occasionally reaching out with her own. She could see when Cassandra’s eyes flickered over to the crowd and chose those moments to strike, needling the Seeker who knew better than to allow herself to be distracted. As Wendi'i suspected, it only served to deepen Cassandra’s frustration. It took longer than any match Wendi'i had participated in before because of the depth of Cassandra’s training, but eventually her opponent lost her caution and began improvising on technique just to get closer. This was what Wendi'i had been waiting for, the moment to stop playing defense. 

With a whirl, Wendi’i stepped into an offensive pattern dance. She spun, she jabbed, she blocked and followed up with a blow of her own. Cassandra had gotten used to the defensive patterns and had let her own defense get slack. Not to mention this was not her primary weapon and one she only used in tournaments and sparring situations. This was the style of fighting Wendi'i had focused on since she was ten years old.

The roar of the crowd from this development stole attention from Cassandra and provided openings for Wendi'i to strike and possibly end the match, but she wanted to be sure. If she used up one of those moments of weakness and missed, Cassandra would strengthen her resolve and become much less vulnerable. Wendi'i knew it needed to count. 

She increased her speed. As she guessed, the change in pace was exciting to spectators and it garnered another rise in volume. Cassandra scowled in the direction of the noise and Wendi'i made her strike. The blunted tip of her staff blade struck Cassandra square on the chest and knocked her off balance. While that strike on its own might have killed her with a real weapon, Wendi'i still spun out of the way of Cassandra’s retaliating blow and struck her on the back to make double sure. The noise of the crowd reached deafening proportions. 

The match was over, and the mage had won.

Cassandra let out a slew of curses as she straightened up, then her face broke into a wide grin and she caught Wendi'i up in a massive hug. 

“That was so fun! I've never fought such a worthy opponent before, your technique was superb! You really played me well, I knew the crowd was distracting me and leaving me open and you took perfect advantage of that. Although I would like to try again in private and see if I can keep up better. But that was exhilarating!”

People swarmed them with comments and congratulations and Wendi'i was quickly overwhelmed. She was used to crowds watching her fight but never in her life had they approached her afterwards and certainly not with this much praise. Wendi'i was jostled and pushed and somehow ended up at the tavern with a line of free drinks in front of her. It was chaos, but in a good way. Wendi'i had never known such energy. It felt like togetherness. And she loved every second. 

That night she stumbled back to her cabin more drunk than she had ever been in her entire life. At one point she tripped and she fell, but someone caught her and began to carry her forward. 

It was Solas. He looked down at Wendi’i with a tenderness that surprised her, especially after his hungry look earlier that day.

“I was worried you wouldn't be able to make it back to your cabin safely, and it appears my worry was justified. But never fear, I won't tell anyone the valiant hero can't hold her ale.”

“You know,” Wendi’i said with a hiccup, “we keep meeting like this Solas. I'm beginning to think you follow me around everywhere.”

Solas laid her down gently on her bed and took his hands away slowly. 

“Not everywhere. But if there is ever even a slight chance you may be in danger, I will always be there to make sure you make it out safely. You...are important, Wendi'i Lavellan.”

She desperately hoped he meant important to him and not just important to the world because of her mark. The question was on her lips to ask, but even with her inhibitions lowered due to alcohol she still couldn't bring herself to say it. She was too afraid of what the answer might be. After all, he was with the Inquisition only to help close the Breach. Then he would probably leave and Wendi'i would find herself alone. 

With nothing but silence between them, Solas made his leave. In the doorway, however, he paused. 

“Sleep well.” 

And she did. The next day she had a blithering headache but it didn't matter, because for the first time in her life Wendi'i felt loved and appreciated by those around her. Keeper Yorin had been the only one to ever show her kindness before, and now she saw it in every direction. It was crazy to see looks of respect on people’s faces as she walked by, not because of some unearthly mark but because of what they had seen her accomplish. Wendi'i started really talking to the people of Haven, and getting to know them. She gave a staff fighting demonstration to Cullen's soldiers and it made her happy to see them all listening attentively and jostling to be her sparring partner. She added two new recruits, a Grey Warden and a Qunari mercenary captain who brought his entire company to Haven! She even flirted with Solas a little more openly and boldly. Things were looking brighter overall. 

"Have you decided who to ask for help closing the Breach?" Josephine asked at the next war table meeting. 

"Yes," Wendi'i said with more confidence than she had felt in years. "I would like to ask the mages. When it comes down to it, I know what they are capable of and I have to say I am more comfortable with them than templars. No offense, Cullen."

"None taken," he said evenly. "You should go with whoever makes you feel the most comfortable. You're the one staring down that massive hole in the sky."

"Thank you," Wendi'i responded. "Now it's just a matter of making contact and coming to an agreement." 

They made their plans and Wendi'i stopped by Solas' cabin on her way to her own, even though they were on opposite sides of the camp. 

"We leave for Redcliffe tomorrow morning, Solas. One step closer to closing the Breach."

He smiled, and Wendi'i thought about how much she loved those rare smiles that reached his eyes. This was not one of them, but it was still nice. 

"Indeed," Solas replied. "Are you prepared to ask the mages for help?"

"I am," Wendi'i said firmly. She had confirmed her decision to him before the meeting. "We have a good team gathered here. Once we have the mages we stand a serious chance, don't you think?"

"Yes, I believe we do" he said, but not with much enthusiasm. Wendi'i remembered the worrisome thought from her drunken night. She still didn't have the courage to really ask, but she tried to approach it cautiously. 

"Once the Breach is closed..." She started slowly. 

"You want to know if I will stay?" Solas asked, following her direction. 

 

"Well, yes, I do," Wendi'i said with hope in her voice. 

 

“To be honest,” he said softly, “I am not quite certain.”

Wendi'i tried not to let disappointment into her face but she couldn't help it. 

“To be honest,” Wendi'i countered, “I don't know what I would do without you.” 

Solas gave a scornful laugh that surprised her. 

“I suppose you would lean on the many others who have rallied to your cause and flocked under your banner. You have your pick among the finest men and women in Thedas, all willing and ready to serve. Do not worry yourself with a mere apostate when you have people like Cassandra or Commander Cullen to support you.”

The way Cullen’s name came off of Solas’ lips gave everything away. Wendi'i understood in an instant what was wrong. 

“I catch your meaning,” she said as casually as she could, “but as a fervent Andrastian, Cassandra would always be hindered by my lack of belief in the progress of our friendship. And as for Cullen, why, he is still a templar deep down. I may be comfortable talking to him about trivial matters, but I could never confide in him the way I confide in you.”

Wendi'i looked Solas straight in the eye. 

“You...are important, Solas.”

He seemed taken aback by her words. A rush of emotions she couldn't sort out flew through the windows of his eyes. Those blue eyes as cold as the frozen lake in the valley settled on a sad, wistful gaze. 

“I thank you for your kindness and your friendship. But I cannot say with all certainty I will stay.

Wendi'i decided not to press it further. She said goodnight and tried to brush away tears discreetly as she made her way back to her cabin. Once in the solitude of her room, she stared at the ceiling and wished she could understand that elf. But she shook off her feelings as best she could and laid out her clothes for the next day.

A new journey would soon begin.


	15. The Dread Wolf and the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel dwells on the mistakes he has made and his complicated past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time is about to skip ahead, heads up.

This was all his fault. 

Fen’harel in full wolf form prowled through the snow, sniffing the wind and searching for the one he had so wronged. Cursing himself, he thought back on all the events that had led him here. 

He had felt something was off in Redcliff immediately. A magister with the ability to affect time? A very dangerous man. But Wendi'i seemed confident they could infiltrate his castle and disarm him with the help of this Dorian fellow. As Solas, he could do nothing but watch in horror as Wendi'i and the Tevinter mage disappeared from where they stood in the center of the floor. Filled with rage, his hands itched to let loose a spell from ancient times that would bring the whole place to the ground and tear the magister filth into a million little pieces! He wished to reach out through the fade and choke that foul man where he sat, and reveal his true identity so the horrid creature knew the depth of the mistake he had made. The man would gaze upon the furious visage of Fen'harel the Dread Wolf before he suffered. He wished all of these things but before his hand could raise up and summon death there was a loud bang and a flash. 

And there Wendi'i stood, the Tevinter mage behind her. Relief flushed through his veins but with unease he noticed she looked different. Older, harder, and spent. With a broken voice she confronted the magister Alexius and condemned him. The Inquisition's forces led the defeated man away but Wendi'i remained where she was standing. Solas and Cassandra approached her slowly. 

Before they could speak, however, there were politics to settle. The King denounced his offer of refuge to the rebels. Wendi’i offered the mages a full alliance, as she had told Solas she would do. 

“In these dark times, we need to be united as one,” she had said with the firm resolution that Solas admired.

But after returning from the horrific future Dorian described, that confidence seemed greatly shaken. Upon returning to Haven, Solas handed off his reins to a stable boy (though usually cared for his mount himself) and walked with Wendi’i to her cabin. Standing outside the door, she bade him inside. He protested, but then she had said in a broken voice,

“Please. Just for a little while. I cannot be alone just yet.”

Solas looked around to make sure no chatty servant or wandering soldier saw him enter the room. There she sat, his fiery warrior, on top of her bed looking so small. He sat down beside her and waited for her to speak. 

Wendi’i looked at him with such emotion that he felt his heart tug inside his own chest. Her lips parted but no sound came out. She cleared her throat but when she spoke it was with a wavering voice.

“The future we saw...I saw...it was beyond terrible, Solas. Leliana nothing but a withered corpse, Cassandra mad with red lyrium, and you...I saw you...risk your life for me...and then you, fell...you…I saw you..”

Wendi’i threw herself onto Solas and wrapped her arms around his torso while violent sobs racked her thin frame. Solas quickly put his arms around her, holding this precious creature he had come to care for so deeply like he was cradling a child. He held her as she cried out her fear at the horror of all she had witnessed, the depth of which Solas could only guess. Later he would talk at great length with Dorian over the events in that false future as an academic, but for now he held its victim closely and protectively. 

They stayed like that for many hours. Wendi'i stopped crying eventually but did not disentangle herself, until finally Solas realized she had fallen asleep in his arms. With great care, he laid her down to rest peacefully on the bed. He kissed her freckled forehead and whispered the farewell words,

“Sleep well.”

In the days to come Wendi'i would train even harder to overcome what Solas assumed she saw as weakness in herself. Her runs got longer, and her normally mild temper shorter. But after a week or so the pain on her face faded and her resolve to close the Breach returned. 

Solas could not have been more proud of Wendi'i as she stood before the massive rift that was the Breach and stretched out her hand. The mages poured their magic into her as she held her ground in firm defiance. With an earsplitting crack, the Breach was sealed and Solas once again found himself tending to an unconscious Wendi'i as she recovered from the great power drain. As she lay there, he almost wavered in his decision to leave after the Breach was closed. If he left while she slept, he would never know how she fared upon waking. So he told himself he would leave once he was sure she was up and walking around again. 

When that moment came, Solas found himself wavering again. She was so beautiful in the dancing firelight, smiling at the throngs of celebration underway. He loved that face. 

He loved her.

The realization startled him almost as much as the warning bells. 

Chaos descended all around as people ran for their swords and staffs. Wendi'i bolted into action, grabbing Solas by the arm and crying out to the Iron Bull to follow her to the trebuchets. The moment the dragon appeared Solas knew what was happening. The Elder One that he as Fen’Harel had let gain possession of his foci had found a way to live on continuously and now was bringing his army forward to claim the anchor. 

And that meant he was coming for Wendi'i.

Solas had been so lost in thought and distracted by the entrance of an intriguing compassion spirit that he had not realized Wendi'i was using herself as bait to buy the townspeople more time to escape. He tried to make his way towards her when an explosion blew him backward. Pinned by debris, he could only watch in horror as Corypheus suspended Wendi’i in mid-air by one wrist and tossed her like a rag doll. With a frantic cry he had tried to free himself before she made the sacrifice to launch the avalanche, but he was too late. Iron Bull had to carry him away to keep him from plunging into the oncoming snow. As it was, they barely made it out of the way. Solas made it known immediately to the survivors that he was sure Wendi'i was alive, out there, somewhere. As soon as a search party had formed, he slipped away on his own. Fen’harel the Dread Wolf in full canine embodiment formed for the first time since his waking, at great cost to his strength. 

Now here he was, prowling in the snow. He blamed himself deeply for all of this, for the pain he had put the one he loved through however unintentionally. He never should have given the orb to Corypheus. 

Suddenly, his keen wolf senses picked up the familiar scent. His dear Wendi'i was alive!

He galloped towards the smell, his large paws acting like snowshoes and allowing him to travel over the surface of the deep drifts. There she was, shivering in the cold but marching forward oh the brave soul. It took all he had not to run to her immediately, change his form, and wrap her up in his arms. But Wendi’i was a fighter, and she was trudging through the snow with the light of her inner fire.

Fire. He remembered there was a fire pit not far from here where the survivors had rested. If Wendi'i saw the remains, perhaps she would be encouraged and know she was going in the right direction. He howled into the wind, lacing the cry with magic that she would surely feel and want to walk towards. She turned towards the sound. 

They continued like this for at least an hour. Wendi'i would slow and falter, and Fen’harel would cry out his magicked howl into the night. Then she would pick herself up and press on, rubbing on warm embers left over from the fires so recently put out. With a whiff, he realized the search party was not far. He hated the idea of turning from her, so he howled in the direction of the party with a gentler magic that would still compel them to come towards the sound. Their chattering voices rose over the high winds and with his wolf eyesight he could see relief spread over her face. Wendi'i collapsed into the snow. 

This time he could not help himself. Behind a snow drift, Fen’harel shed his wolf skin and became Solas once more. He rushed to Wendi'i before the others could reach her, appearing to come from the opposite direction as the search party to appear as if he had been searching on his own. Solas plucked Wendi'i from the snow like a daisy and coddled her in his arms like he had done twice before, but this time with more tenderness than ever. He carried her all the way back to camp and was reluctant to put her down when they reached a healer. But he did, and he retreated to the edge of camp for reflection. 

He should tell her. Of his mistakes, of his identity, and of his fault in all of this. 

No, that would be too much for her when she woke. But she did need to know partially about the orb’s origin. The truth in its entirety could wait. 

Then Solas felt ashamed. How could he share the truth with her and abandon his mission? He could not make reparation to her and so forget his duty to make reparation for his first and gravest mistake centuries ago. 

But he loved her. That knowledge burned inside him like molten metal, flames of more than the feelings of lust he had been carrying but affection and admiration and fascination and love. It pained his heart to feel it, so he pushed it deep down inside. He must focus on the issues at hand. He would tell her the basics of the foci's origins. Then what?

Inside the camp he could hear the squabbles of the Inquisitions leaders. Each was unsure of where they would go next. They were refugees as adrift in the night as the snow. The Elder One’s plans needed to be stopped, but how would this motley crew accomplish such a feat? Solas considered this problem. 

He was reminded of a previous life, one where a talented and prideful mage welcomed the praise and worship he received for his part in a long war. He thought himself so clever, so above everything, and therefore it had only seemed fitting that he live in an imposing mountain palace from whence he could look down upon the world and sneer. Ages before his realization that his fellow war heroes would capitalize on their fame and subsequent power to an immoral degree, enslaving their own people to further their own desires, Fen’harel the Dread Wolf held court in a domineering castle. He enjoyed the looks of fear in the eyes of his visitors as the crept along the massive great hall to the throne where the young mage sat in imposing impudence. Then, when the years had passed and Fen’harel grew bored of fear and fine food, he stretched his legs in the world. It was then he discovered with anger how his fellows had treated the people they had once fought a war to protect. And thus the castle turned toward noble purpose, as its cavernous rooms began to host the runaway slaves Fen’harel liberated through trickery and his famed cleverness. His reputation with former peers turned to infamy as they spread rumors about the horrid Dread Wolf in an effort to keep their slaves from running away. It may have worked for some, those who would whisper with malice “may the Dread Wolf take you” at their worst enemies, but those with wits about them chose to escape to the mountaintop fortress of Skyhold. 

Perhaps it was time to turn the castle to noble purpose once more.


	16. The Mage and the Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i gets a change in occupation.

Wendi'i woke up to strange and tasteless clothes. Seriously, what was with the excess of gold buttons and the washed out tan color of the cloth? And it blended too much with her boots. But as there were no other clothing options in her tent and her armor was still getting repaired from ice damage, it would have to do for now. 

The courtyard of Skyhold was already abuzz with movement and chatter. The enormous castle loomed imperiously above her. She still couldn’t believe they were here. Or that she was alive. Or that Haven was gone forever. No more runs outside the wooden walls, no more baths in the neighboring creek, and worst of all no more smiling faces. Everyone here looked glum. Wendi’i could understand why, but it was not how she felt.

After her terrifying trip into the false future at Redcliff, Wendi’i had been somewhat broken. She had seen Cassandra and Solas lay dead and trampled on the dirty stone floor. The pain that struck her in that moment was so massive that she almost left Dorian’s side and risked not making it through the portal. As he held her back, tears fell in hot streams down her face as she looked in horror at the lifeless body she loved so much.

She loved him.

In that moment the realization hit her like a blow from a shield block. She didn’t have time to process it because she had to confront Alexius, deal with King Alistair, and ally with the mages, but deep down she knew it to be true. For weeks the memory of his limp corpse haunted her. More than once she had asked him to just hold her until the firmness of the present erased the grip of the nightmares. In these moments she desperately wished he was holding her because he loved her, too, and not because it was the right thing to do to help her move forward or a kind consideration for her well-being. She clung to him like he was the only safe thing in the world.

But the world wasn’t safe, and she had a part to play in getting it closer to being so. She trained harder than she ever had in her entire life. And when the moment came, though the surge of energy was overwhelming, she felt her mark seal the Breach. She felt it in the last moments of her consciousness, before hitting the ground. The next time she woke up, she half-expected the mark to be gone like the Breach. It was still there, but that didn’t bother her too much. The Breach was closed and that was what mattered. 

Then the attack, the strange blond boy with the daggers, the dragon, the red monster, and the avalanche. Talk about a lot to process. She thought she was going to die alone in the snow. Only the strange force pulling her forward kept her from succumbing to the cold. After waking up, her head pounded with dehydration and feelings. Her first emotion was anger. Not at the bickering Inquisition leaders, or at the situation, but angry with Corypheus. A town was destroyed, hundreds died, because a pathetic egotist wanted to be a god. This was the creature that created the terrible future she had witnessed. Her heart hurt for those lost, but what fueled her now was not remorse or sadness but anger.

Over the course of the next week, as they scouted to the north for a location Solas knew of from the fade, her anger steeled itself into resolve. Wendi’i would find this Corypheus and tear him down from his self-made pedestal with her own hands. 

Solas helped her. Just being near him made her more calm, and luckily he was always close by these days. Her near-death experience had apparently shaken him, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t give her hope that he cared for her as much as she for him. 

All this had happened in such a short time. And now, Cassandra beckoned to her from across the courtyard. Perhaps it was finally time to start fixing up the inside of the nice-looking castle so they could stop living in tents? 

But then she led her up the stairs and praised her actions. They offered her a sword and a title that she didn’t even understand entirely. People gathered below, the same people who shared drinks with her after she won the sparring match plus a few new faces. They were looking at her with hope in their eyes. She was confused, but strangely honored. Accepting the sword, she spoke to the gathered crowd,

“Corypheus will never let me live in peace. He made that clear. He intends to be a god, to rule over us all. Corypheus must be stopped.” 

“Wherever you lead us,” Cassandra said. The same Cassandra whom Wendi’i had fought beside countless times shouted to Josephine far below.

“Have our people been told?”

“They have,” Josephine replied with pride in her voice, “and soon, the world!”

“Commander,” Cassandra shouted again, “will they follow?”

“Inquisition,” Cullen asked, “will you follow? Will you fight? Will we triumph?”

The hearty cheers touched Wendi’i to the core. She would not be in this fight alone.

“Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!”

Commander Cullen drew his sword and looked piercingly at Wendi’i. She shivered under his gaze, a hot look filled with passion and admiration that gave her goosebumps. The roaring of the crowd caught her attention again, and their energy transferred to her. She lifted the sword up high, marveling at how far she had come since she left her little clan. Now she was the leader of a movement that would stop evil from destroying the world. And she was actually proud of herself, for once in her life. It was a lot to process.

Wendi’i was the Inquisitor, and she was going to save the world.


	17. The Mage and the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at Skyhold is about to get more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka the time has come my friends to hop aboard the romance train.

Wendi'i slumped onto a tavern bench with a tall ale and a sigh. The day had been exhausting, full of meetings with her advisors and important visitors. She couldn't wait until the next assignment took her far away from Skyhold and all its formalities. Wendi'i wouldn't admit that at the end of a long campaign in the Western Approach she had actually relished the chance to be back at the castle among her full party of companions, because at the moment it felt like all she did in Skyhold was sit in boring meetings. 

“How's it going, boss?”

Wendi'i smiled up at the massive Qunari warrior she had come to like so much. 

“It's going, Bull, I'm just so tired of the Inquisitor stuff. I accepted the title so I could save the world not pick out curtains and placate stuffy nobles.”

“What you need is a good fight,” Iron Bull said with a broad smile. “What say you and I spar? You may have beaten Cassandra from what I hear but give me a go and we’ll see what happens.”

Wendi'i laughed. 

“Not a chance, Bull. Against Cassandra I could manage but you would wipe the floor with me. I'll have to settle for a good ale instead.”

Both of them drained their tankards and set them aside to be refilled by a tavern boy. 

“So when do we ship out next, boss?” Iron Bull asked as he wiped remnants of ale off his lips with a thick forearm. 

“Well,” Wendi'i replied, “that depends on when the Inquisition finishes taking care of those toxic gases in the Approach or on when we get a new assignment. Until one of those things happens we are stuck here.”

“It's not all that bad, boss. You can use the time off to explore extracurricular activities.” He said this with sly glance in the direction of Dorian, who was getting a tankard of ale and walking towards them. 

“What are we talking about?” Dorian asked as he sat down beside Wendi’i. She spoke up quickly.

“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do here except stuffy meetings.”

“Well you could always visit that hobo friend of yours with the terrible fashion sense. But you do that pretty often already, I suppose,” Dorian jested with a wink. 

Wendi’i blushed crimson. 

“I would, but ever since we got to Skyhold he has been spending enormous amounts of time reading and studying, or taking naps to reach the Fade. He doesn’t seem to have much time for anything else.”

“It’s very noticeable,” Dorian said dryly. “I mean I'm usually in the library above his room and I've heard all of your attempts to draw him into flirting. It would appear he is dull beyond all understanding. If I was him I’d have steered you into a dark corner of the castle by now.”

“Trying to make a pass at the Inquisitor, are we Vint?” Iron Bull asked in his deep throaty voice. 

“What if I was, Bull? What then?”

Wendi'i laughed with amusement. “You two stop flirting, you're supposed to be trying to help me flirt better.”

“Boss,” Iron Bull replied, “a dolt like that who can't see the pretty girl right under his nose needs a lot more than flirts. What you need to do is just lay one on him.”

“A nice smack on the lips,” Dorain added, “not some half-assed peck on the cheek, now.”

“Once you’ve kissed him,” Iron Bull continued, “just walk away. If he wants to kiss you back, make him come to you. That way the ball is in his court.”

Wendi'i looked back and forth between her two friends with surprise. 

“You really think that's what I should do? No clever pick-up lines that would work just as well?”

“Darling,” Dorian drawled, “that poor fellow is far beyond the reach of pick-up lines. If you want him to pay attention to you, one must demand attention. It helps if the moment is already tender, of course, less out of the blue that way, but one takes what they can get.”

She let out a long sigh. 

“At least then I'll know for sure if he’s interested.”

“That's right,” Dorian said warmly. “And I'll be cheering quietly for you in the rotunda all the while.”

Wendi'i rose to leave. 

“Thanks for the advice you two. Now I'll leave you to your extracurriculars.”

She left with a wink at Iron Bull, which he returned. 

“What did she mean by that?” She heard Dorian ask as she left the tavern. Wendi'i smiles to herself. Those two would work well together. But she frowned when she thought about what they had suggested she do. 

Could she really invade his personal space like that? Flirting was one thing but kissing was another level entirely. She would be mortified if he was embarrassed by her attention, or worse, was offended and never wanted to speak to her again. Why jeopardize the friendship they had with a risky move like that?

But she knew within herself that friendship wasn't enough for her. She loved him. Any possibility that he could feel the same for her had to be discovered by any means necessary. And if he shrank back from her affections and wanted just to stay friends at least she would know how he felt. Of course it would be awkward at first, but Wendi'i considered herself mature enough to not let a rejection ruin the friendship she had with him. Some embarrassment on her part could be endured for that, at least. 

And so she resolved to make her move. But how? After chewing it over in her mind Wendi'i decided just to start talking to him and wing it from there. There was no use planning the kiss, it would just have to be at the right moment. She hoped she could discern that. She also hoped she wasn't about to make a huge mistake. 

Bolstered by the three tankards of beer in her system, Wendi'i marched to the rotunda room where Solas spent his time. Any delay and Dorian would be back from the tavern to witness her failure. As she approached she found Solas bent over a desk of books as always. He glanced up when he heard her enter, and for a moment he stepped away from his books and stood straight up with his hands behind his back. 

“Inquisitor,” he greeted her with polite reserve. 

Wendi'i took a deep breath. Now or never. 

“I'm interested in what you told me of yourself and your studies. If you have time, I'd like to learn more.” 

She saw his masked features soften. Was that a good sign? 

“You continue to surprise me,” he said warmly. “Alright, let us talk...preferably somewhere more interesting than this.”

Wendi'i felt lighter than air. The world around her turned to darkness and she knew nothing but the warmth of his hand in hers. Then color began to return again. Solas walked forward and so did she. Soon Wendi'i began to hear the crunch of snow beneath her boots and the world swam into focus. 

They were in Haven. 

“Why here?” Wendi'i asked, confused and feeling a little light headed. 

“Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you.” That was all Solas said.

“We talked about that already,” Wendi'i reminded him. 

They made their way into the dungeon beneath the Chantry. Wendi'i shuddered at the memory of waking up chained and afraid even though she had no remembrance of what had caused the fear she felt. Before that moment, her memory was blank. Solas followed her gaze to the center of the dungeon and spoke again. 

“I sat beside you while you slept, studying the anchor.”

Wendi'i forced herself to answer lightheartedly.

“How long could it take to look at a mark on my hand?” she asked with a sideways glance. Solas either ignored the suggestion he had looked at more than the mark on her body or it went over his adorably bald head. 

“A magical mark of unknown origin, tied to a unique Breach in the Veil? Longer than you might think.”

He began to speak earnestly. 

“I ran every test I could imagine, searched the fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”

“Cassandra’s like that with everyone,” Wendi'i pointed out in an effort to be fair. That got a chuckle of Solas. They walked back out into the sunshine, Wendi'i glad to leave the damp underground. 

“You were never going to wake up,” Solas said remorsefully. “How could you, a mortal sent physically through the fade? I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach. Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra...or she in me. I was ready to flee.”

Wendi'i could see how scary that must have been for an apostate like Solas. 

“The Breach threatened the whole world. Where did you plan to go?” Wendi'i inquired. 

“Some place far away, where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me.” 

He noticed the skepticism on her face. 

“I never said it was a good plan,” he added with a wry laugh. “I told myself, one more attempt to seal the rifts.”

He stretched out his arm towards the Breach in the sky. Hey, didn't she close that already? Wendi'i felt her mind get fuzzy as she tried to focus in on what Solas was saying. 

“I tried, and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…”

The memory of the first time Wendi'i closed a rift flashed before her eyes like a vision. Her sight swam, then returned to focus on Solas as he gazed at her strangely. 

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture...and right then, I felt the whole world change.”

Wendi'i could feel her heart thumping loudly in her chest. He had said those last words with a warmth she could feel down to her toes. 

“Felt the whole world change?” She repeated questioningly with a blush blooming across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the ale in her system. 

“A figure of speech,” Solas responded awkwardly. She had never seen him uncomfortable like this before.

“I'm aware of the metaphor,” Wendi'i pressed. “I'm more interested in ‘felt’.”

“You change...everything.” Solas said breathlessly. 

“Sweet talker,” Wendi'i said while looking away from his gaze. His eyes were full to the brim with a brightness she couldn't interpret. This had to be the moment. This has to be the time. 

Wendi'i reached out her hands and grasped Solas by the face. She planted her lips firmly on his for a sweet and glorious moment then turned away abruptly, her body on fire with embarrassment and desire. Before she could walk away even one step, Wendi'i found herself being swung back to face Solas.

His mouth crashed into hers like a hot summer storm and she felt a spark between them like lightning. He pressed forward so eagerly that Wendi'i realized she was bending backward with the force of it but she didn't care. His breath was sweet and his tongue soft as it explored her mouth with hunger. She returned the kiss in kind, letting her own tongue find its way past his lips and making an expedition of her own.

All too soon she felt Solas break away and Wendi'i took the opportunity to gasp for breath and search his eyes for an idea of what he felt. There was pleasure there, but there was a sort of sadness as well. He leaned in again to kiss her, this time gently and with tenderness. But then he pulled himself away once more, moving back even as his hands held her shoulders. Her own hand dropped from his face. 

“We shouldn't,” he stammered. “It isn't right. Not even here.” 

“What do you mean, ‘even here’?” Wendi'i asked flustered beyond all comprehension. 

“Where did you think we were?” Solas asked her in return. 

For the first time the realization hit Wendi'i that they were standing in an empty but complete Haven. The Breach sat motionless in the sky. The firs did not budge an inch in a nonexistent breeze. But none of this mattered because Haven had been destroyed by an avalanche at her own hand. Yet here she was standing, and suddenly she understood. 

“This isn't real,” she whispered. 

“That's a matter of debate,” he whispered in return, “probably best discussed after you…

Wake up.”

Wendi'i bolted upright in bed. Sure enough she was tangled in the velvety blankets of her room I'm Skyhold, a cavernous place of stone she usually found cold and depressingly bare. But now she felt warmer than she ever had before in her life. The electricity of the kiss still tingled on her lips, and she held her hand to her cheek to feel the flush of her skin. Wendi'i glanced around at the massive bed she had been given and thought about how nice it would have been to wake up with Solas beside her here. The pounding between her legs told her exactly what she would do in such a situation. 

One thing was for certain. He felt a connection, too. And he wanted her. The passion of the kiss was merely the surface of his desire, she could feel it. The events of the last dream replaying in her mind, Wendi'i drifted off to a real sleep with a smile on her still tingling lips.


	18. The Dread Wolf and the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas struggles with depression when faced with memories of his past.

Living in Skyhold again was more difficult than Solas expected. The moment he stepped on the grounds he felt the Veil weaken and memories of his past pressed against his temples. He had to take frequent naps to satiate the Fade as it reached for him even in waking hours. In a matter of weeks he had watched all of his history play before his eyes, this time as a third party. And he didn't just see himself from his own perspective. Like any dream in the Fade, he saw the emotions and feelings of all who were present. For the first time Solas understood how greatly others feared him, and it no longer gave him satisfaction as it had then. 

It haunted him. 

To avoid these feelings, Solas spent all of his time studying. It was the only way to keep the dreams from taking him out of reality. His heart grew heavy with the weight of seeing how others saw him. Arrogant. Powerful. Domineering. Fearsome. Cruel, at times. Though he had learned humility since that time and tried to make up for that part of his life, it still hurt to hear and see the way the some talked of him. People he considered his friends secretly despised him or were humoring him out of fear. People who he had thought he loved...it was clear every time he slept that none of that time and place truly loved him. 

Then Wendi'i had come to him, she wanted to know more about him. Solas could feel the past pull at his mind, so he decided in that instant to take Wendi'i and go in the opposite direction of his history at Skyhold. He took her to Haven. After all, she needed to process the events there. Solas found himself talking toward a goal his brain did not create but instead his heart had set. He loved this girl. He had loved her from the moment he had seen her laying on the dungeon floor. And here she was, hanging onto his every word. But did she care about him? Or was she just like those others, the smiling and charming faces that had adorned his court in those old days. 

Solas recounted his tale of confusion and anxiety upon seeing the Breach. He laced his words with meaning beyond face value without even realizing it of himself. Solas even admitted to Wendi'i what he had yet to admit fully to himself.

And then she kissed him. It was a short but warm kiss that tasted sweet like honeysuckle. It was over before it had even begun, and the way she turned away from him so ready for a reprimand he was in no position to give sparked something inside of him. Solas wrapped his arms around his Wendi'i, and her body responded in kind. For a few glorious moments he knew nothing but her soft lips, delicate tongue, and firm figure. He deepened the kiss and his lust flared to life. His hands began to roam. One hand traced her spine, leading him within inches of the shapely buttocks he had once admired naughtily in a creek. 

But just as abruptly, duty brought him back to reality. Then there was her beautiful face, startled but gleeful, and he could not resist another kiss. Finally he pulled out and backed away slowly. He could not afford love and it's entanglements with the sort of plans he had working. This was just a diversion, derived from loneliness and lack of sleep. It needed to end. 

So he took her back to Skyhold, arranging the fade in his particular way so she awoke in her own bed not but a few seconds after they had left. The memory of the passionate kiss on his lips, however, prompted his thoughts to wander from their just cause. Solas pondered what Wendi'i would feel like if he were there in his old room beside her. He still knew every stone in the chamber, and easily be able to find his way to her. The fun they could have, since now he knew she was receptive. 

He pumped his hand over his erection, letting his desire take a hold of his brain as his thoughts continued on their path. If she didn't love him as he did her, she at least wanted him as evident by her surrender to his passion earlier that evening. And if he came to her in the night, she would be on her nightgown. Solas imagined it a lacy slip of thin silk that showed the perkiness of her small breasts. 

Wendi'i would look up at him with the look she wore earlier, the look of surprise mingled with glee. Her arms would reach for his neck as he plunged on top of her, brushing his lips past hers on his way to kiss and nip at the skin of her neck. She would moan with pleasure, which would prompt him to grind his fierce erection (which he now had moving at alarming speeds) against her hips. She would adjust herself to match his movements and let him tear the nightgown from her body like throwing open a set of curtains on a sunny morning. Her hands would fumble for his clothes, and in the heat of passion they would become a tangle of limbs and hot, shallow breaths. His hands would travel all over her beautiful naked body with its smooth skin and lovely freckles. Then, Wendi'i would look him square in the eye and grip the member he was currently working over so hard. She would guide him to the entrance of herself and re-position to receive what he had to offer. Solas licked his lips at the image his mind had conjured up. He would press forward...and inward…

Done. That last thought was enough to send Solas careening over the edge of ecstasy. It was the perfect scene. All it needed was the leading actress. For the first time since arriving at Skyhold he didn't dream about the dark past as he went to sleep, the lust was still on the brain.


	19. The Mage and the Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start moving in a romantic direction.

Wendi'i woke up the next morning feeling satisfied and whole. She couldn't remember her dream, but traces of it gave her the impression she had orgasmed. Probably true, since she went to bed with an array of dirty thoughts. But now it was morning, her body was quiet and her mind very awake. 

He loved her, too. She could feel it in the way he had held her, in the way he had kissed her, the look in his eye as they came together. Whatever had prompted him to back away and protest was nothing of consequence if he loved her like she felt he did. Eventually, love would overcome. 

She felt giddy as she went for her morning run across the battlements. A group of young mages, male and female, trailed behind her. Ever since she had settled into Skyhold, mages from the alliance had approached her with questions about her methods. Many had asked if they could follow her footsteps and train under her, but she didn't see herself a teacher. Wendi'i simply allowed them to watch her as she went through her routine and every now and then she corrected a stance or a hand-grip. 

This morning many complained she was running too fast, she even lapped the slower one of the group, but Wendi’i couldn’t help it. She was drunk on the endorphins of love and the endorphins of running only added to her energy. By the time they began working on staff technique several of the more out of shape mages excused themselves. 

“You drill them as hard as I do my soldiers,” Cullen said with appreciation afterwards, as Wendi'i was leaving the training area. 

“Oh,” she said, “I wouldn't say I'm drilling them, just helping out a little.”

Cullen laughed. 

“A little? They were following every move you made like schoolchildren, and the way you barked out directions was more sergeant than helper.”

He was looking at her with that strange warmth in his eyes again, but this time Wendi'i didn't feel like flirting. She actually felt a bit guilty, having led him on when she had had her sights on Solas the whole time. But then again, their conversations never did go beyond playful banter so really there was nothing to feel bad about. He just was kinder than any human she had ever met and he had puppy dog eyes. 

“I'm sorry, Commander, but I have to go,” Wendi'i said as formally as she could. She hoped he caught her meaning. 

But his face didn't fall and his gaze didn't waver. He simply nodded and bowed slightly, then swept away with his big fur cloak trailing after him. 

Wendi'i tried to forget the warm look in his eyes as she made her way up to her chambers to bathe and dress. She shook her head of any pleasant thoughts that look could bring and focused on washing the sweat and dirt of the morning workout away. She planned to see Solas before any other matters took her attention. Wendi'i smiled as she played the previous night’s events in her mind. It had been an exhilarating experience. 

She primped a little more than usual and even rubbed perfume on the nape of her neck. When Wendi'i opened the wardrobe she passed over her usual plain jacket and suit for a royal blue silk blouse and fine cloth breeches. She tousled her hair, which she still kept cut close to the head, and dabbed the slightest bit of blush on her cheeks. There. She was ready. 

Humming to herself, Wendi'i made her way down to the rotunda. She entered the room and walked up to the center desk as gracefully as she could muster with her buzzing nerves. Solas looked up at her with a starling gaze, one she could only describe as good humor and lusty hunger mixed into one. 

“Sleep well?” He asked. 

Wendi'i felt a chill run from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He had said those words to her so often, and so often she had felt them tingle on her skin. But never before did they affect her this much. 

“I've never done anything like that before,” she said breathlessly. “On a number of levels.”

A laugh escaped his perfect lips, but then he straightened his features. 

“I apologize. The kiss was impulsive and ill-considered, I should not have encouraged it.”

Wendi'i simply smirked. 

“You say that when you're the one who started with tongue.”

“I did no such thing,” Solas exclaimed. 

“Oh?” Wendi'i gave him a sly smile. “Does it not count if it's only fade-tongue?” 

“It's been a long time” he said slowly, not giving in to her flirt, “and things have always been easier for me in the fade.”

Wendi'i softened. Her suspicions that Solas was frightfully shy seemed to be correct. 

“I'm not certain this is the best idea,” he continued in a guarded tone. “It could lead to trouble.”

But Wendi'i had expected this. 

“I'm willing to take that chance,” she said firmly. “If you are,” she added softly. 

Solas stammered.

“I...may be, yes. If I could take a little time to think. There are...considerations.”

Wendi'i gave him her best and sweetest smile. 

“Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” Solas responded. “I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams. But I am reasonably certain we are awake now, and if you wish to discuss anything, I would enjoy talking.”

Wendi'i was triumphant within herself while outwardly she agreed to stay and talk. She knew he loved her, now it was beyond certainty. Whatever hesitations he had would surely pass with time. So she stayed and they talked for hours until Wendi'i was called away to a war table meeting. Even then, she sent a furtive glance of frank emotion back at him as she left, hoping it would help melt whatever was holding him back. But she didn't worry. Theirs was an inevitable love.

Dorian and Iron Bull were thrilled, of course. They wanted all the details but Wendi'i found herself giving them rather reluctantly. It was such an intimate experience to kiss in the fade that she didn't feel like sharing it. But these were her friends, so she gave them enough to clap her on the back. 

“I told you it would work, didn't I say it would work?” Dorian exclaimed.

“What are you going to do next, boss? We already know WHO you're going to do!” Iron Bull laughed loudly and Dorian had a naughty glint in his eyes. Bull then ordered enough ale to drown a war horse and everyone in the tavern took part in the revelry, though few understood or cared why. 

Free ale was free ale.


	20. The Mage and the Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas needs a favor, and Wendi'i couldn't bear seeing him so upset.

It was a damn good thing Wendi’i had learned patience in her years of training. Seducing Solas was taking forever. There would be moments when she thought he had broken down, moments of lingering looks and a hand left on her shoulder longer than it needed to be. But then he would withdraw, back to his dusty books and the painted walls of the rotunda floor. At least Cullen had taken the hint, for he seemed to have backed off on the flirting. Wendi’i wasn’t sure how patient she could be if such an attractive man continued advancing while she was being rebuffed by this incorrigible elf. But she supposed love would have kept her at it, as it did even now.

She knew he loved her, despite his attempts to hide it. Why was he taking so long to decide? Wendi’i made sure he was by her side on every mission, and when they were at Skyhold she pestered him with surprise visits. A flutter of the eyelashes, tighter than usual clothes, and even some visits late at night in her nightgown claiming she couldn’t sleep were among the many tactics she employed. There were so many almost-kisses. His will to resist was giving, she could feel it, and it kept her going. 

One morning, back at Skyhold, Wendi'i witnessed the most marvelous sunrise. She was running along the battlements, a small handful of mages still determined to train with her just a few steps behind. They lapped her as she slowed to a jog, jaw dropped in awe of the multitude of colors and textures spread across the sky like a watercolor masterpiece. The beauty of it burned in her mind. Wendi'i jogged to the highest point of Skyhold, her students pausing their runs in confusion. 

She reached the highest point and drank in that sunrise. The entire world was below her, mountains and valleys and rivers and trees. Wendi'i lifted up her arms to bathe in the morning light. She felt powerful, like she was a part of the sunrise. The fade tickled her skin. It was thin here, she could tell. Somehow that made her feel even more powerful, though she wasn't sure where that feeling was coming from. It was like it was leaking through the fade and her body was absorbing it. Wendi'i felt invincible. 

After a while the raw feeling faded as the sun rose to its normal mid-morning position, but Wendi'i could still feel traces of power pumping in her blood. She apologized to her students for keeping them waiting and led them through a series of vigorous exercises a little different than their usual routine. Powerful swipes and moves that could disarm or skewer an enemy, and afterwards the students left happily chatting and enjoying the barest touches of raw power they could feel radiating from their teacher. 

Wendi'i went back to her chambers to bathe and dress, scrubbing so hard that her skin was red. She applied various lotions, styled her pixie cut hair to look delightfully tousled, and added touches of red paint to her lips. She wanted to look seductive. Wendi'i chose the blue silken blouse since it usually drew the elf’s eye, and in a quick moment of clarity among her power-fueled thoughts she stuffed subtle amounts of padding into her brassiere. There. She was ready. 

Wendi'i was still feeding off of that moment of pure energy on top of the battlements, and she knew exactly where she wanted it to go. Today was the day she broke his will. Solas would finally relent and give in to his love for her.

She strode across the hall, entered the rotunda, but before her force of presence could be realized Wendi'i saw his face.

Solas looked terrible. He had bags under his eyes and he was drinking a cup of tea with a grimace. All of the fiery energy left Wendi'i like a candle being snuffed out, and all she could feel was embarrassment. She was foolish to think that a pretty sunrise and an odd encounter with the fade on the battlements would be enough to bring about an event that had months of groundwork already. Things didn't just happen because you feel powerful. Wendi'i walked out of the shadows slowly, and tried to muster up her usual teasing tone.

“Something wrong with you tea?” She asked. 

“It is tea,” Solas responded with distaste. “I detest the stuff.” He sounded grouchy and irritable. “But this morning I need to shake the dreams from my mind. I may also need a favor.”

Wendi'i felt her heart beat faster.

“You just have to ask,” she said with meaning. 

“One of my oldest friends has been captured by mages, forced into slavery. I heard the cry for help as I slept.”

“When your friend was captured, how did he...she…” Wendi'i hoped to all the gods it wasn't a she.

“It,” Solas supplied. 

“It?” Wendi'i questioned. 

“My friend is a spirit of wisdom,” Solas answered with a challenging gaze, as if it could be a problem. “Unlike the spirits clamoring to enter our world through the rifts, it was dwelling quite happily in the fade. It was summoned against its will, and wants my help to gain its freedom and return to the fade.”

“I thought spirits wanted to find their way into this world?” Wendi’i asked. She knew this was a sensitive topic for Solas. She had listened to his theories on spirits and the fade, had allowed the compassion spirit Cole to stay even though he deeply unnerved her, but Solas knew that deep down Wendi’i did not see spirits in the same light. Not due to any Chantry decree or popular opinion, but due to the destruction she had seen demons cause with her own eyes. 

“Some do, certainly,” Solas was saying. “Just as many Orlesian peasants wish they could journey to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain. My friend is an explorer, seeing lost wisdom and reflecting it. It would happily discuss philosophy with you, but it had no wish to come here physically.”

“Do you have any idea what the mages would want with your friend?” Wendi’i asked. No matter how she felt about spirits, she would help Solas in any way possible. She had never seen him this upset.

“No,” he replied to her question, “it knows a great deal of lore and history, but a mage could learn that simply by speaking to it in the fade. It is possible that they seek information it does not want to give and intend to torture it.”

He looked so pained that Wendi’i found it hard to look him in the eye. She hated seeing him look like this, she had to help.

“Alright, let’s go get your friend.” 

“Thank you,” he said with gratitude. “I got a sense of my friend’s location before I awoke, I’ll mark it on our map.”

Wendi’i had trouble deciding who to tell about this journey. She certainly didn’t want any of the normal team members to travel with them, Solas would hate for others to see him like this. Perhaps Cole could accompany them, since he was a spirit himself and Solas wouldn’t be bothered by his mind-reading games. Wendi’i had always been a bit freaked out by the way Cole knew what people felt and thought, especially because she had so many thoughts she didn’t want to share. Thoughts about Solas, thoughts about the Inquisition, she was a private person by nature and had been mostly alone all of her life. Wendi’i had never felt comfortable around compassion. It was an alien concept to her.

So they would travel with Cole and no one else. But she still had to tell someone that they were leaving, Skyhold would be in an uproar if the Inquisitor simply vanished into the night. Wendi’i groaned inwardly. Why did she ever accept such a silly title, one with so many rules and requirements? She should have hoisted the position onto Cassandra and let her deal with all the stupid nobles and boring meetings. Wendi’i stifled a grin at the thought of Cassandra having to put up with formalities of being the Inquisitor. She would probably impale some poor fool on her sword the very first day.

Now that was a thought. Not Cassandra impaling someone, of course, but Wendi’i realized telling Cassandra would be her best bet at slipping away from Skyhold without too much fuss. Wendi’i had come to realize Cassandra was much more understanding than anyone she had ever known associated with the Chantry. She would listen to why Wendi’i needed to leave. And if she forbade it for any reason, Wendi’i had a trump card. She knew that the Lady Seeker secretly adored Varric’s seediest romance novels, Swords and Shields, and she never was above blackmail in a pinch.

Luckily that never came up. Cassandra seemed to know why Wendi’i wanted to go and help Solas.

“I have traveled by your side on many journeys and many dangerous missions, Inquisitor. I have seen the way you look at him, and I have seen the way he looks at you. Go, help him save his friend. I will have Leliana’s spies alerted to your departure and explain your absence to the advisors. Josephine will have a fit, you know.”

Wendi’i smiled. No matter how huffed up Josie would get, nothing could penetrate the stubborn will of Cassandra. She left knowing she was in good hands, and amazed at the difference between now and when she had first met the Seeker. She shook her head and went up to her room to pack.

They were ready to go in a matter of hours. Under the cover of night, Solas, Cole, and Wendi’i slipped away from the castle. Solas used a secret passage he apparently had been shown by one of Leliana’s spies before they set out to leave. That was rather considerate of Leliana, Wendi’i thought to herself, since she hadn’t expected their spymaster to approve of this mission. Three mounts were waiting outside the gates. Clipp, the sturdy horse Master Dennet had given Wendi’i, Cloud, Solas’ mare, and Whisper, a fidgety gray pony and the only animal that would allow Cole to ride it. After stowing their meager travel packs in the saddle bags, they were off.

Wendi’i wondered where Solas was taking them since he hadn’t shared the location of the cry for help yet. He lead them on an unfamiliar mountain path towards the mouth of a cave.

“Tie this to your saddles,” he said, tossing a line of rope to Cole, who passed it to Wendi’i after tying it to his pommel. 

“Where are we going, Solas?” Wendi’i asked.

“He is going to use magic,” Cole said in that disturbingly matter-of-fact tone of his.

“You are correct, Cole. The friend we are going to save taught me this spell, it takes a lot of effort and concentration but it will turn a tedious journey into a matter of seconds. Wendi’i, you may have to help me with the spell. Just cast your senses out and you will feel it’s pull. Add your mana to mine, and we should have no trouble with it. Cole, tell your pony not to fidget. This is going to take finesse.”

“I don’t think it works with animals,” he said doubtfully, but it didn’t seem to matter. The pony had already sensed the magic in the cave and had frozen in fear. Wendi’i felt like doing the same.

“Ready,” Solas whispered. “One, two…”

On three, Wendi’i felt a terrific tug. She lurched forward, barely able to keep herself in the saddle. She felt the pull Solas had mentioned, and let her magic flow to help him keep the spell going. It rather felt like lifting heavy furniture, easy-going with two people but the constant threat of it slipping and crushing your foot. Everything was dark and her non-magical senses knew nothing but a roaring wind in her ears. Wendi’i felt the reaches of her magic wobble, struggling to keep it up for much longer. But then the energy of the moment caused a surge of pure adrenaline. This was amazing! This was impossible! Wendi’i hadn’t felt a rush like this since the last big battle they had fought in. As suddenly as it started, however, it stopped. The pressure eased off, and there was a light so bright Wendi’i had to close her eyes or be blinded. When she opened them again, there stood the other two horses and riders. 

And they were in the middle of the Exalted Plains.


	21. The Dread Wolf and the Spirit

“Woohoo!” Solas smiled as Wendi’i continued shouting in excitement. 

“Did we really do that?” She asked. “Did we really just fast-travel from Skyhold all the way to the Exalted Plains? I mean, I've heard of such spells but I didn't know they were possible or that they were such fun! What a rush! I could feel the wind in my hair!”

Surely enough, her normal tousled pixie cut was now extra tousled. Solas resisted the strong urging he had to run his fingers through her hair and help sort it back out. It was so cute to see her so excited. Solas was just happy the fast travel spell worked. He had been a tad worried that it would crumble half-way and dump them who knows where. It was always a possibility. 

Unsure of what was going to happen when they found his friend, he advised the other two to leave their mounts at the forward camp. And so the three continued on foot. 

Solas hadn't actually wanted to ask Wendi’i for help. If he had been at his full power, he could have slipped away without anyone noticing, saved his friend, and been back before dawn. But he was not at his full power, and he couldn't even perform the fast travel spell on his own. If Wendi’i wasn't such a powerful mage in her own right, they might never have been able to reach the Plains in time. 

As it stood, he was nervous. This spirit of wisdom was of great importance. It had been the first friend Solas made back when he was a young peasant boy in a distant farming village. Before he became the Dread Wolf, before even the Great War, the spirit had given him counsel. But then he had grown arrogant, had ignored the wisdom of his friend. He didn't even stop to ask its advice before casting his spell that created the Veil, or else he might have reconsidered. Then, after a long slumber, he woke and he could not find his friend when he reached out through the fade. This was the first contact Solas had experienced from this spirit since his days as a young mage, and it was a cry for help. Of course he was nervous.

As if feeling his tension, Wendi’i didn’t attempt her usual flirty chatter and Cole didn’t try and pry into his brain. Solas was intensely grateful, as much as he loved Wendi’i he did not have the energy to deal with flirting at the moment. As for Cole...he approved of Wendi’i bringing him along but usually Solas could keep up a spell to hide his past and his innermost thoughts from the curious eyes of empathy. On the rare chance Cole did latch onto a Fen’Harel thought, Solas could easily wipe it clean from his mind. But today he was too emotionally exhausted to worry about it, and so was relieved when Cole kept to himself. 

They continued along through the war-torn region, Solas reaching out for where he felt the call from his friend. It tugged at him like a line connected to his magical senses.

“Thank you for this, Inquisitor,” Solas said, using her official title as he always did in the hearing of other team members. “We are not far from where my friend was summoned.”

“Everything here is blurry,” Cole said in his even voice. “It wants to forget, but now the rocks are solid.” 

Solas did his best not to cringe, as he always did when reminded of his failures. He saw the elven army destroyed on these lands in the fade not long after he woke up and started talking to spirits again. It sickened him to think his actions led to their bloody deaths. Outwardly, he showed almost fatherly affection for Cole as the champion of all spirit-kind, but inwardly Solas was often in torment by Cole’s astute observations. It was a constant struggle to guard enough thoughts that Cole would not know the truth, but leave enough thoughts so Cole did not suspect he was hiding something. Things did slip on occasion, and every now and then Solas worried Cole suspected who he was. 

But those thoughts were driven from his mind when they came across the first body.

“One of the mages. Killed by arrows, it would seem.” 

Wendi’i said something about bandits but Solas was looking at another body further along the path.

“These aren’t mages. The bodies are burned, and these claw marks...No. No, no, no.”

He felt sick inside, but the sickness quickly turned to anger as the party rounded a bend and saw a pride demon standing inside a summoning circle. 

“My friend!” Solas gasped in horror as he put two and two together. Bandits. A handful of traveling mages. The call for help. A pride demon. His hands balled into fists and he gave an involuntary snarl.

“The mages turned your friend into a demon,” Wendi’i said with confusion.

“Yes,” Solas answered as he felt the old anger, the fierce and hot anger, spread through his blood.

“You said it was a spirit of wisdom, not a fighter,” Wendi’i pointed out unnecessarily. He knew he shouldn’t blame her, she was trying to make sense of it all, so he tried to answer as best he could though the anger was boiling under his skin.

“A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“So they summoned it for something so opposed to its own nature that it was corrupted. Fighting?” Wendi’i seemed to finally understand. Before he could confirm it for her, one of the mages walked up to them.

“Let us ask them,” Solas growled. 

“A mage!” 

The man before them exclaimed it with relief, which only served to deepen Solas’ anger. 

“You’re not with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted, we’ve been fighting that demon…”

“You summoned that demon!” Solas spat out with venom. “Except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time. You made it kill! You twisted it against its purpose!”

The mage began to look uneasy at his vehemence. Putrid scum.

“I..I..I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can..”

Solas had to interrupt.

“We are not here to help you.”

He looked to Wendi’i, pleased to see she also looked sickened by the sorry excuse for a mage before them. She gave him a reassuring look, then looked sternly back at the stammering man.

“Word of advice,” she said with sarcasm, “I’d hold off on explaining how demons work to my friend here.” 

Damn, Solas loved that woman.

“Listen to me,” the mage stressed with a puffed out chest, “I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle--”

“Shut up,” Solas said with seething anger. “You summoned it to protect you from the bandits.”

“I..yes,” the mage admitted. 

“You bound it to obedience,” Solas continued, “then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He spoke to Wendi’i and Cole now.

“The summoning circle. We break it, we break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

“What?” blubbered the mage, unaware of how close Solas was to melting off his flesh with a word. “The binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us! Whatever it was before, it is a monster now!”

“Inquisitor. Please!” She had to help. She had to help him. Solas would never be able to defend himself from attack and break the circle at the same time. Cole wouldn’t help if Wendi’i held back. She must help him.

“I’ve studied rituals like this,” Wendi’i replied, “I should be able to disrupt the bindings quickly.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. Relief flushed through him, taking the edge off of the anger even for just a moment. Then, the demon that was once his closest friend let out a guttural cry. “We must hurry!”

The three split up, Solas and Wendi’i attacking the bindings while Cole distracted the pride demon. It was difficult work. It took all Solas had to keep up protective barriers around the three while also directing magic at the stones of the circle. As he dodged balls of electricity and struggled to destroy the pillars, Solas was consumed with guilt for not just failing to protect his oldest friend but for everything. Just everything.

After what seemed like ages (and he would know what that felt like), the summoning circle was broken and gasps of amazement erupted from the offending mages as the pride demon shifted shape. Now a wisp of blue-ish gray in the form of a woman with glowing green eyes knelt by the stream. 

“I’m sorry,” Solas choked out the words in Elvhen.

“I’m not,” his friend replied, the familiar voice touching his heart. “I’m happy. I’m me again. You helped me, now you must endure. Guide me into death.” 

Pain shot through Solas like a dagger to the heart. He should have been here to protect his friend. He should have been there to protect his people.

“As you say,” he said while trying not to cry. He reached out with his hands, and the wisps of what was left of his friend broke up and sped away on the breeze like a pillar of dust disappearing. 

“Dareth Shiral,” he mourned.

“I hear what it said,” Wendi’i spoke from behind him. Solas had forgotten she spoke Elvish as did all Dalish elves. “It was right. You did help it.”

“Now I must endure,” he repeated.

“Let me know if I can help,” she told him softly.

“You already have,” he told her in return, looking at her with love in his eyes. But then he could see the mages standing awkwardly behind her and the anger swelled up again.

“All that remains now is them,” he said darkly. He could feel fire at his fingertips.

They approached him with some sort of gratitude that only served to fuel his rage.

“You tortured and killed my friend!”

The man who spoke for them blabbered about not knowing it was a spirit. Solas’ palms were hot with flames now. The anger shook him, it blotted out all other thoughts and emotions, and it would not be satiated with anything less than blood. They had to pay for their folly. There was a roar in his ears as he let the fire inside him come out and consume all who stood before him, white hot and raging. The acrid smell of burning human flesh flooded his nostrils as the bodies hit the dirt. Only then did Solas realize he had killed them, and then he felt regret. He shouldn’t have let their deaths be so quick as that.

“Damn them all,” he said mostly to himself.

Suddenly everything seemed pale and tired. The rage left him, followed by an overwhelming sense of sadness. The death of his friend was just one more death he was responsible for, and the sum of it all threatened to break him.

“I need some time alone,” he said quietly, “I will meet you back at Skyhold.” 

He summoned the fade and let him propel him forward, far away from the carnal scene and far away from where his companions almost saw him sob like a child.


	22. The Mage and Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you need to talk things out with someone who cares.

Wendi'i stood still in shock as she stared at the the bodies burning on the ground. It took her a moment to register what had happened, to register what Solas had said. Then she fell to the ground as the sobs shook her body.

Wendi’i wept for Solas, who obviously lost a dear friend. She wept for the mages who were just trying to protect themselves, who didn't understand spirits because the Chantry never taught them how, and whom she had just let die a fiery death because she was couldn't bring herself to stop the person she loved from having his revenge. The sickening horror of seeing their bodies consumed by flames. And the burning smell of their flesh! It was unbearable! Wendi’i coughed up the next few sobs.

Mostly she wept for herself. Solas was gone. And she couldn’t help but notice that spirit looked a lot like a woman. In her despair, Wendi’i wondered if the spirit had once been beautiful. If the friendship with Solas had really been just sharing wisdom. Obviously nothing physical could ever happen, but still, Solas seemed to care so deeply for it. What other explanation could possibly have troubled him so much that he had to leave? He left Wendi’i. He left her sitting in the dirt. He left her all alone…

Wait. Wendi'i pulled herself together. She wasn't alone. Was she? Looking around she couldn't see Cole. Had he been unable to handle her excess of emotion and left her, too?

“Cole,” she whispered weakly. 

He appeared as suddenly as Solas had left. In his hands were small bundles of flowers.

“The sickening horror of seeing their bodies consumed by flames,” he said. Wendi’i shuddered as he echoed her thoughts out loud. “And the burning smell of their flesh! It was unbearable!”

He held out the flowers. 

“These are for your nose. They smell pretty.”

Wendi’i took them and held them to her nostrils. The flowers were very nicely scented. It helped take the edge off the awful smell. And they smelled so familiar. In fact, they were the same flowers that Wendi’i suspected Solas had grown among her clothes when he had watched her bathing. They had smelled nice, then, too. That seemed so long ago. Things were so simple then…

“No,” Cole lamented in frustration. “The smell is sad, it brings it back. I'm sorry. I can find better ones.”

“Please,” Wendi'i called out before Cole could go again, “Don't leave. It's alright. I'm alright. Thank you for the flowers. They do help.”

Wendi’i looked around at the loping grasslands. 

“What do we do now?” Cole asked.

“He said he would meet us back at Skyhold,” Wendi'i sighed, “so I suppose we go back home.”

Before Wendi’i could stop it, a wave of emotions washed over her brain. 

Home. She had called it home. She, who never felt like she belonged anywhere, felt a place could be called home. What a strange and new feeling she didn't quite understand. But then she was very conscious of Cole standing there beside her, probably reading everything like a book, and she felt the old discomfort come back.

“It's okay if you don't want to share it,” Cole said quietly. “I don't have to look. Sometimes I can't help it, I want to help, but I understand. They tried to make you be what they wanted. Thoughts and feelings were all you had left that were yours only. And you don't like sharing. That's why he is so special. He shares with you. He makes you want to share.”

Wendi’i looked at Cole as if for the first time. She had never stopped to think about why sharing thoughts had made her so uncomfortable. Maybe she should share with this spirit of compassion. Maybe he had more insight than she thought. 

“Let's go back to camp for our mounts,” she said instead. “We have a long journey home.”

And so they walked back, Cole surprisingly silent. The scouts were out on a mission, so there was only the requisition officer to help with the fire and supper. Rations were meager. Wendi'i couldn't seem to fall asleep. She had always been a restless sleeper growing up, but somehow she had grown out of that during her time with the Inquisition. Most likely she was normally too tired to not sleep, but now the thoughts kept her awake. Where was Solas right now? Was he thinking of her? Or it? Or something else entirely?

With a grunt, Wendi’i left her tent. She wanted nothing more than to run. She felt so much better after running. But with the undead roaming around on top of the demons and the civil war, the Exalted Plains was probably the worst place possible for a jog through the night. Wendi’i slumped by the fire in defeat, knocking something over in the process. She picked the object up. Someone had left a kettle there. Wendi’i gave a half smile, and filled the kettle with water from the nearest creek. Then she retrieved a small pouch from her tent and fished some of the contents into the kettle. While the water boiled, Wendi’i looked deep into the flames and tried not to think of anything. Soon enough, she had an entire kettle of tea and she poured the pale liquid into the cup she had used at supper. The warmth was soothing as it made its way down her dusty throat. She smiled, a real smile this time.

“What plant is your tea from?”

Cole appeared out of the shadows in the way only he could. He sat across from Wendi’i, the fire illuminating his mouth and nose but casting his eyes and brow in shadow from the brim of his peculiar hat. 

“Vandal aria,” Wendi’i replied. “It’s rare that I find a merchant who carries it, so I stock up when I can. It’s a desert flower.”

“Can I have some?” he asked. Then he took off his hat and she could see his eyes. They looked like any boy’s eyes, blue and inquisitive. She poured him a cup and handed it to over.

“Ouch,” he cried as he tried to take a large swig, “it’s too hot!”

Wendi’i couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s because you’re trying to drink it like water or ale. You can’t just gulp it down. Here, watch me. First, you blow.”

Wendi’i exhaled slowly and softly over the surface of her cup. Cole did the same.

“Then, instead of letting the tea touch your lips and scald you, suck the tea straight into your mouth quickly and in small amounts.”

Wendi’i demonstrated the tea sip, making an exaggerated slurp to illustrate the point. Cole followed suit and then gave an odd little laugh that sounded like an echo over cobblestones.

“Hey, it didn’t hurt that time!”

They drank tea in silence for a time, letting the fire crackle pleasantly and the tea sit in their bellies. 

“This is good,” Cole decided. “I like tea better than ale. The Iron Bull always wants me to drink with him, but it doesn’t make me fuzzy the same way. Perhaps because I don’t have any memories I want to be fuzzy, like he does.”

Wendi’i grimaced. 

“Cole, I can’t listen to you talk about how another person thinks or feels while they are not here. It feels wrong. Like I am invading their privacy.”

Cole nodded.

“That’s alright. Privacy is important to you. They wanted you to be First, not because they liked you but because they didn’t have anyone else. You knew that, but you excepted because you didn’t have anyone else, either. Then they tried to make you be what they wanted. At first, you resisted, but later it was so much easier just to pretend, to play along. That’s when they started being nice to you, and when you realized how shallow they were. But at least they couldn’t take your thoughts away. In private, you were who you wanted to be.”

Wendi'i sighed.

“I tried so hard to hide everything from you. How did you find out everything about me anyway?”

Cole looked confused.

“I didn't know you were hiding. You thought and you felt so I thought and I felt. That's how I help.”

“Wait,” Wendi'i laughed, “so every time I tried to hide something that meant I thought about it, and because I thought about it you felt it? I practically gave myself away?”

She laughed heartily, a harsh laugh derived from pain and heartache. 

“I can't help knowing things,” Cole said with distress. 

Wendi'i stopped laughing.

“No,” she said with sympathy. “You can't. I knew that, I always knew that. I had read books on compassion spirits before. I just...can't help wanting to keep things private. Like you said, it's how I stay me.”

Wendi'i set down her teacup and hugged her knees to her chest. She pressed her head down and tried to stop the tears from coming, but she felt them hot and wet on her cheeks just the same. 

“And you were right, it's what made him special. Everything he said, all the time, the clan would have hated it and I loved every second. He wasn't afraid to share what he felt, and he wasn't afraid of anyone disagreeing. He was ready to defend his point of view, to fight for what he believed in.”

Wendi'i grabbed fistfuls of tunic and tried to steady her breathing. 

“I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn't.”

“I know,” Cole said, “they would have blamed Keeper Yorin if you kept fighting them.”

Wendi'i jerked her head up and stared into the deep blue eyes of compassion. 

“He was like a father to you. He taught you how to control your magic, how to broaden your mind. Every time you fought them, you saw his brow furrow further. But it wasn't because you were causing trouble, Wendi'i, it was because you were saying what he couldn't. He loved his people too much to share his doubts, to break their happy illusion. He didn't die because you wouldn't make peace. His death was not your fault.”

“How could you know?” Wendi'i said through a fresh onslaught of tears. “How can you know it wasn't my fault? If I had just kept my mouth shut it would have saved him all of the grief, and his heart wouldn't have given out like that.” 

“I can feel him and his feelings through how he touched you,” Cole said quietly. “I can't explain it but I know. And I know he never blamed you.”

For a moment, Wendi'i was perfectly still. Then she threw herself into Cole’s arms, blubbering messily and clinging to the coarse fabric of his coat. She cried until she felt the little knot of grief deep inside her heart loosen and finally set her free. She smiled, and drew back to her spot by the fire.

“Thank you, Cole,” Wendi'i said a bit shakily. 

“Does this make up for the wrong flowers, then?”

Wendi'i smiled at the concern in his childish cornflower blue eyes. 

“Yes, Cole, it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really felt it necessary to address the Inquisitor's feelings and reactions to Solas killing the mages and walking away. That's an intense thing to witness from the person you love. I also wanted Wendi'i as a character to let herself open up to Cole. One of her central faults is not wanting to share herself with others, and that needed to be talked about in order for her to be ready for the next time she sees Solas, an in-game cannon scene.


	23. The Mage and the Students

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Wendi'i has opened up to Cole and explored parts of herself she didn't realize existed, the world seems different and more open. But she still pines for the return of her love. Will Solas ever come back?

It was dark when Wendi'i woke up in her bed at Skyhold. She brushed her teeth, laced her boots, and left on her morning run, taking the same route to the battlements she always took. It was chilling to go through the empty rotunda. Solas had yet to come back, and it had been three weeks since the events on the Exalted Plains. Of course, a week of that time had been spent traveling since there was no way they could fast travel again. Wendi'i hoped the same reason was why Solas wasn't back. That he was traveling, slowly but surely, on his way to Skyhold...on his way to her.

It was a cold morning. Wendi'i put on a pair of gloves as she walked up the stairs to her usual starting place. Standing there, waiting, were her four students. Wendi'i realized with a start that she didn't even know their names, after all they never really spoke. She thought about one of the many conversations she had had with Cole as they traveled back.

“They've seen you accomplish things no other mage has done,” Cole had said about her students. “They see how others respect you, and not just because you're the Inquisitor. They look up to you.” 

“But what if I let them down?” Wendi'i had responded. “I've never had anyone look up to me before, not like that, I don't know what to say to them!”

“Talk to them like you would anyone else,” he had told her. “You seem too unreal to exist. Let them see you are real, and maybe they will begin to feel real, too.” 

Wendi'i pondered all of this while they ran against the icy wind. She didn't push the extra mile like she would have done on her own, but instead led the small troupe to a secluded place in the lower courtyard. 

“So,” she began, startling them. “I thought we might do something today while we stretch.”

“Like, meditation?” one student asked.

“Not exactly,” Wendi’i said, blushing. She felt so awkward. But then she saw Cole, sitting on a battlement and doing his best to look encouraging while others passing by gave him no notice.

“I thought we might...talk. Get to know each other. I can start, if that helps.” 

Wendi’i took a deep breath and stretched into a lunge while her students followed suit. 

“I was raised in the Dalish clan Lavellan. We traveled all over Thedas, and I served as First starting at age eleven because we didn’t have a lot of mages and we were a rather solitary clan. Our Keeper was named Yorin, and he was a scholar. He...passed away not too long before the Conclave, and it was his wish to see it in person and understand the outcome. So, I went in his place and in his memory. That’s where the story ends, I believe you know the rest.”

Phew. It was over. Then someone raised their hand, in the middle of a triceps stretch that looked very odd indeed. Wendi’i gulped.

“How about we all take turns, then we can ask each other questions?” Wendi’i said shakily.

“Alright, I’ll go first,” said the one who had her hand raised. She was a short girl, not quite dwarfish but not too far off, with jet black hair in an elaborate series of braids leading to a tight bun. Her features were sharp, but not unpleasant, with brown almond shaped eyes and thin pink lips like her whole face was pulled back with her hair and making her cheekbones prominent. She carried herself well, with energy and presence that Wendi’i had noted before. 

“My name is Adelaide, but I go by Addie. I was a member of an Orlesian noble family with my twin sister Adrianne, but it doesn’t really matter who or where our family is from. As soon as we showed our magic they practically threw us into a Circle and never got in contact again. We joined the rebellion because the templars treated us like dirt.” 

She spat onto the ground.

“And now we are here.”

The boy next to her made a gesture that he would speak next.

“I’m Adrianne, and I’m trying to think of something to say that my sister Addie didn’t cover.”

Okay, not a boy. But she did have masculine features and a haircut that was shaved on both sides of the head with all the hair flowing from the center. She was tall and stocky, with wiry muscles and a pronounced jaw. However, there was a similarity in the bold brown eyes and the jet black hair. Wendi’i could see the two being fraternal twins, now that she knew.

“Well,” Adrienne said after some thought in the same thick Orlesian accent her sister had used. “I guess I could mention our family hated the both of us because we liked girls. Sure, it was fine for Orlesian nobility at court but not for the landed gentry out in the country. The templars weren’t so keen on it, either.”

“Adrienne!” Addie admonished.

“What?” replied her sister nonchalantly. “It’s part of why we are here.”

The next student decided to speak up before a war between siblings erupted. He was a thin boy and young, probably no more than sixteen, with gaunt features and a large brow covered with a mop of dusty brown hair. 

“I’m Callum,” he said with a distinct Fereldan accent like Cullen. “I was raised in a small farming village and my subsequent Circle wasn’t too bad, actually. My problem was when the rebellion started and suddenly the pleasant templars of our peaceful Circle became jailers and wardens though we had done nothing wrong ourselves. I thought well if they are going to treat me this way, I might as well be as bad as they assume.”

He shrugged.

“Not that I’m bad at all. I have mostly just observed from the sidelines.”

“You say that like being a part of the action is a bad thing,” the fourth student said. Wendi’i couldn’t tell by features or voice if it was a boy or a girl. Neither, she supposed. They had bulking muscles but a shapely form, a square jaw but long and lovely lashes over blue eyes. Their nose was small and petite but their voice was rough and gravelly. And though their accent was obviously Nevarran, the voice itself did not give away a gender. 

“The name is Veran. I was an apostate, living in a fishing village up north. My village didn't want me to leave and go to the Circle so they hid me, but eventually templars found out and I was captured. The rebellion was a great opportunity to escape, and as soon as this Corypheous punk is put down I'm going home and staying there.”

Their eyes glared with a challenge, daring someone to say they would never make it back. No one said anything. 

“Does that mean it's question time?” Addie piped up. “I mean, we all shared.”

Wendi'i sighed. “I suppose so.”

“Me first!” Addie declared gleefully. “When did you start training like this and why?”

“Well,” Wendi'i began, “I was ten years old when my magic showed. I wasn't very good at controlling it, and I was terrified of hurting someone through a spell gone wrong or through possession and everything to do with being a mage. So my clan’s Keeper found an old school of magic called The Warrior Mages in an ancient tome. They used physical endurance and strength to channel their focus. It helped me feel more in control, and it keeps you healthy.”

The four looked spellbound. Wendi'i coughed uncomfortably. 

“Alright, I answered. Now each of you have to explain why you follow me through all of this nonsense.”

To her surprise, Callum answered first.

“I thought that was obvious. Templars suppress magic. Many mages think they can survive on how many spells they know or how powerful they become, but if your magic is put down then you are done. At least this way there is still a fighting chance to survive by your endurance or the blade on your staff. It is an intelligent method of training and I wish I had known about it long before now.”

The others nodded. 

“But it's funny how you said you started training like this so you could control your magic better,” Addie considered, “and not because you wanted to be extra powerful. Did you ever consider the advantage of being able to battle with force as well as magic?”

Wendi'i felt surprised. 

“No, I guess not. Once I started and felt myself gain more control over myself and my magic, I continued in it because I enjoyed the discipline and frankly I find staff fighting to be fun.”

Her students gasped in amazement and started to pester her with more questions. 

“So is it true you defeated Lady Cassandra in equal combat?”

“Have you ever killed a templar with your blade?”

“Do you like killing people?”

“Woah, woah,” Wendi’i calmed them down and tried to sort through their questions. “Yes, yes, and no. It’s not good to enjoy killing. It’s a sign you kill too much and without thought. Taking someone’s life is not something to be taken lightly.”

She looked up to where Cole had been sitting, but he had vanished in his usual way. She continued.

“Snuffing out a person’s life, a person who could have changed and grown given the right chance, is a serious matter. Obviously, it is a matter we have to take into our own hands far too often in these troubled times. It is often kill or be killed. But do I enjoy it? No.”

The students were silent and pensive. With a start, Wendi’i realized none of them were older than twenty. They were still children. Not that Wendi’i was an old crone herself at twenty nine, but at their age she was dealing with petty clan members and not an evil magister bent on world destruction. She could see how her fighting plus magic method gave them a feeling of confidence.

“Okay, then, how about we learn some new staff techniques today?”

Their faces lit up as they produced their own practice staffs. When did they get those? Wendi’i really hadn’t been paying attention this past year. This time she did more than correct stances and grips. She gave encouragement. She smiled. After practice, she felt better about herself than she had for a long time. Sure, enemies and villains were everywhere. But she had just made a difference in the lives of those four young mages and that felt good. 

Later that day, Wendi’i entered the tavern. She was met with hearty hellos and greetings that took her off guard. Did people always say hello like that? Even though she was there for a purpose, Wendi’i took some time to walk around each floor and check on the people. Some were understandably pessimistic. Others were looking on the bright side. Sera wanted to indulge in pranks (Wendi’i said she would look the other way, just this once) and there was a young man from the Hinterlands eager to help the Inquisition protect his homeland. Wendi’i promised to refer him to Commander Cullen. With all of this mingling, it was an hour or two before she could finally make her way up to the attic space where Cole could sometimes be found.

“Today was good,” he said after her greetings.

“It was good,” Wendi’i replied cheerfully. “It really was. I never noticed how unique they all are, and yet so united in fear.”

She sobered as she thought of all they had discussed. About liking to kill. Cole spoke quickly.

“He didn't enjoy it. I would have known if he did. He was angry, they had hurt him, they must pay. But it didn't make him happy.”

“I thought he could hide how he felt from you?” Wendi'i asked with a tremble in her voice. 

“Some of the times,” Cole responded despondently. “I know there are parts of him he hides, and he hides the hiding. There is a deep sadness in him, he feels guilty, but I don't know why and he won't let me help. I can feel the hurt but not the why. I'm sorry I can't help you more.”

“It's okay, Cole,” Wendi'i tried to say without letting tears slip. “I know you can't tell me whether or not he loves me, too. I promise to stop asking. I just wish I knew when he was coming back.”

Cole nodded.

“He will come back. I'm sure of it.” 

Wendi'i bade Cole goodbye and left feeling better and worse at the same time. Better because she had stopped feeling uneasy about the dead mages, and worse because she still didn't know how long Solas would be gone for. On their way back, Cole had admitted to knowing she was in love with Solas for even longer than she had known herself. He had actually been surprised when she said she had decided she loved him after the incident at Redcliffe. 

“How can your head tell you something your heart already knows, and has known for some time?” The situation had left Cole very confused for a while. 

It was sunset when Wendi'i felt satisfied that she had completed all of the items on her to-do list. The work kept her busy and stopped her from feeling too much for too long. She had just negotiated a trade deal with one of the merchants on the lowest level of Skyhold when she heard the gate being lowered. For the first week she was home, Wendi'i had jumped every time the gate could be heard creaking. Now she just kept walking toward the stairs. But then curiosity got the better of her and she turned around to see who had arrived. Everything inside her went still.

It was Solas.


	24. The Wolf and the Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dread Wolf is back and more in love than ever.

He saw her spine stiffen. He saw her shoulders go rigid. Suddenly, Solas has the urge to run away again just to hide forever from the look of pain mixed with longing that passed over his love’s face. 

He hadn't meant to stay away for so long. Each step towards her reminded him of why he stayed away. Solas had been admonishing himself for getting too close to the Inquisition and especially the Inquisitor. But with each step he recalled that for every day spent telling himself why he needed to keep a distance, every night was spent languishing in desire. He missed her fighting spirit and her high intelligence, and he missed her firm body with its confident and graceful movements. The kiss they shared in the fade repeated constantly in his mind. He could never forget the hot feeling of her mouth or the press of her figure to his body. Every day way from her was torture. 

But this was another kind of torture entirely. Facing the pain he had caused her by staying away was almost worse than actually being away. She would angry, certainly. He half hoped and half dreaded she would be so angry that she’d walk away from whatever this was they had created. 

“Inquisitor,” Solas greeted formally, loud enough for the people in the courtyard to hear. He was just another servant, as they were, to the cause they believed in. No one paid them notice. 

“Guess I owe Varric an ale. I want sure you were coming back,” Wendi'i said with playfulness, but Solas could tell it was a front. Her eyes were guarded and mournful. It was worse than facing anger, to watch her pretend she wasn't hurting. 

“Neither was I for a time,” he admitted, then immediately regretted doing so due to the influx of pain in his love’s features. “But only a short time,” he added hurriedly. “You were a true friend. You did everything you could to help. I could hardly abandon you now.”

That earned him a small smile at least. 

“Where did you go?” She asked. Solas considered how much to tell her. After all, she would hardly be overjoyed to find out he spent a long time with his chief spies and agents as Fen’harel. That would not go smoothly. 

“I found a quiet spot and I went to sleep,” he decided to say, since he had done this. “I visited the place in the fade where my friend used to be. It's empty. But there are stirrings of energy in the void, one day something new might grow there.”

“What happens when a spirit dies?” Wendi'i asked. Solas loved how inquisitive his Inquisitor really was, never content with the first answer but asking her own questions until knowledge was satisfied. 

“It's not the same as it is for mortals,” he explained. “The energy of the spirit returns to the fade. If the idea that gave the spirit form is strong, or if the memory of it shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again.”

“You're saying your friend might come back?” Wendi'i asked hopefully. The question touched his heart. 

“No, not really. A spirit’s natural state is peaceful semi-existence, it is rare to be able to reflect reality. Something new may form there one day, but it would likely have a different personality. It would likely not remember me. It would not be the friend I knew.”

How was it possible? Wendi'i seemed to actually be sad for him! How could she care for him that deeply? Perhaps he was wrong to try and stay away. Here was a woman who obviously felt hurt he had stayed away from her side so willingly and for so long. Yet she did not admonish him, she grieved for his loss and put her own feelings aside. 

“I'll let you get back to work,” she was saying despondently, visibly wrestling with her emotions. 

“Alright,” he responded. He gazed into her eyes, hating himself for causing such grief for her. No, he couldn't leave her like that.

“I know it may seem strange to you,” he told her slowly, “but I appreciate what you did for my friend. That matters to me. You matter.”

With that he left her, hoping desperately that she understood his meaning. He was only beginning to understand what it meant. She mattered to him, so there had to be a way for it to work. He had come back intending to end the charade, but it had turned out to be more real than he could handle. It frightened him how badly he wanted her. It pressed against his mind, pushing his grand master plan to the far back. If he couldn't stop it from moving forward, he would have to find a way to make this work. 

How beautiful she had looked in person! He had missed her freckles and her vibrant red hair. There was no way to properly replicate it in his mind’s eye, the only way he had allowed himself to see her while they were apart. Several times he had to stop himself from casting a spell that enabled him to watch her from his far off place. It was, however, incredibly tempting.

The next few days were torture. Being in her presence again filled Solas with thoughts love and throes of lust. Wendi'i was not oblivious, either. After seemingly accepting he was back for good, she began coming to his rotunda once more with increasingly bold flirtations. 

But there was something more, something about her that had changed. She was more confident overall, not just when flirting. He noticed how she actually guided her students and spoke to them with encouragement. She didn't come out of war table meetings with a scowl anymore. Solas watched her drink wine and swap stories with Josephine, playfully tease Lady Cassandra about her adoration of trashy romantic novels, and exhibit more energy than he had ever seen her with before. She had always been such a private person, not given to deep connections with others. It had made him feel somewhat special that she shared so much with him and not others, but he couldn't be angry with the transformation. She looked happier, after all, plus there was still a smile and look of love she reserved just for him.

“May I ask, Inquisitor,” Solas questioned Wendi'i one day, “what sparked the transformation from reserved savior of men to down to earth hero of the people?” 

She blushed, which Solas found adorable. 

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” she responded sheepishly. Solas was in shock. 

“What do you mean, me?” He asked, incredibly concerned. 

“After you left us on the Exalted Plains, Cole and I were...out of sorts,” she said delicately. “I was especially. Cole helped me to calm down, and for the first time I really talked to him. He diagnosed why I felt I had to be so private all of the time, and then talked me through a lot of my reservations and issues with my past. On the journey back, we had dozens of deep conversations. It was like talking to a well. I cast down my bucket of questions and fears, and he filled it with water and gave it back clean and clear. I felt much better after finally opening up to him. It's changed my perspective a lot, even if it was hard to begin with...I didn't grow up with a lot of compassion and for the longest time that's why I felt so uneasy around Cole. But I'm glad I've moved past that!”

Solas was amazed. Wendi'i had always been so nervous around Cole, and he had foolishly believed she was uncomfortable because Cole was a spirit as all people seemed to feel. He had never considered it was due to his being a compassion spirit specifically. That the idea of someone knowing her private thoughts and feeling sympathy might hurt her pride, or being so unused to real compassion that its presence made her uncomfortable. He looked at Wendi'i as if for the first time, the one knot he had holding him tethered to his master plan fraying. She was so damn incredible, opening her mind to a spirit and allowing it to change her life and her perspective on the world! He had never known anyone to be that open minded, especially not a Dalish elf.

That night, Solas visited Cole. He wanted to see what the spirit thought of her transformation. 

“Hello, Solas,” Cole greeted him in as cheerful a tone as his hollow sounding voice could imitate. 

“Hello,” Solas returned the greeting in the usual fatherly tone he adopted with Cole, as if speaking to his own child. “I take it you and Wendi'i have been in deep discussion.”

Cole nodded. 

“Yes! It is good. She is lighter now, and her light can do more than lead in darkness. It can offer warmth.”

Solas smiled. 

“And what has made her lighter, Cole?”

The spirit went quiet. Was Cole wrestling with something in his mind?

“She doesn't like it when other people know unless she tells them herself. But she did say I could let you ask one question! She knew you would come here. She is very smart.”

Was that admiration in Cole’s voice? So Wendi'i had won over the spirit, inciting him to keep quiet about information he would have otherwise given without second thought. Impressive. But what should his question be? 

“Alight, I am ready,” Solas said after thinking. “My question is this: How does she feel about me?”

The spirit nodded. The question was expected, it seemed. 

“Awake again, tonight. So many questions. Does he notice my advances, does he think I'm pretty? Did that shirt draw his eye, is he impressed with my magic, can he tell I love him desperately? Do I know enough about the fade to impress him, does my work-out turn him on, how did he watch me bathe without showing up on my senses, how could he watch me bathe and not make his own advances? Is he even interested? Why did he kiss me back, if he was never going to kiss me again? Why can't I persuade him to kiss me again? How can I persuade him to kiss me again? Oh, Solas.”

Cole stopped the stream of consciousness and looked at Solas from under the brim of his hat. 

“There is your answer. Does it help?”

Solas was still in shock, but he managed to nod. He made his goodbyes to the spirit and somehow stumbled back to the rotunda, his mind buzzing. 

She loved him back. This made everything so much more difficult. If she loved him back and wanted him so badly, he wasn't sure he could face her again without an embarrassingly visible erection like the one he was sporting now. He rubbed his hard member vigorously, summoning the mental picture of Wendi'i in the golden light of early morning and bathing in the creek. He groaned with pleasure. 

Tomorrow, he thought as he steadily reached for climax, he would talk to her tomorrow. He would explain how much she meant to him. He would show her…

With a gasp, Solas came. He looked down at his wet and sticky hand. He would show her how much she meant to him, tomorrow. 

The thought was terrifying and wildly exhilarating at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sensitive eyes beware, the smut is coming.


	25. The Wolf and the Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas realizes in the morning he is not as confident as he was last night. And he has no idea what he is doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in like FOREVER! Finishing your last semester of college, planning your wedding, and getting your first big kid job with a fashion company will do that to you.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Solas was pacing the rotunda, all the confidence of the night before shrinking back like shadows in sunlight. He had never felt this nervous. He had never felt this connection to a single person before. All of his past relationships had been tainted by the supreme power of his other life. Every woman he had known was attracted to the Dread Wolf, but now he had grown. He was different. While still very much Fen’harel, he was also Solas again. And no woman had ever fallen in love with Solas before. 

After hours of such pacing, Solas’ tread was interrupted by the thud of a book against his skull. He looked upwards with a scowl where Dorian the flashy mage was lounging against the railing.

“Would you kindly refrain from tossing your books onto my head?” Solas demanded.

“Would you kindly refrain from this ridiculous pacing, the shuffle of your feet is disturbing all of the dust and making me sneeze,” Dorian called down with distaste. 

Solas only glared in return. Dorian sighed and made a big show of going down the stairs with a whistle. 

“Alright, Solas,” Dorian asked with interest, “what has you all wound up?”

“What makes you think I would share such information with you, if there was anything wrong at all?” Solas responded coolly. Dorian had always rubbed him the wrong way, and it didn't help that Wendi'i found him so charming. 

Dorian merely chuckled and gazed back knowingly. 

“So, about to make a move on the Inquisitor then? It's about time, really. I've already lost my bet with Varric on how long it would take. Since you can't lose me any more money at this point, I suppose I should offer my services as a wingman. I've plenty of successful past cases.”

Solas scoffed. 

“I am afraid you are mistaken. I am not nervous, I am not ‘making a move,’ and I have no need of your services.”

Dorian smiled sympathetically. 

“Quite alright with me. This should be fun to watch. Remember, women can tell when a compliment isn't sincere. Go for the less obvious and that will tell her you care more than surface level dribble like soft hair and eyes like stars.”

He jaunted up the stairs with another whistle.

“And just relax!” He called down the echoing stone stairwell. 

Solas gulped. Wendi’i had just entered. 

“Inquisitor,” he said far too quickly. 

She smiled at him in the way that made his heart melt.

“I was...do you have a moment?” 

He led her away from the rotunda and Dorian’s prying eyes. He could do this. 

“Where do you want to talk?” Wendi’i asked him. 

“Somewhere private,” Solas barely managed to say for his heart was beating so quickly. 

Wendi’i glanced around and picked a door. It seemed to lead them lower into the castle but then opened up into the area under the staircase to the master chambers Solas once knew as his own. Then Wendi'i turned to him with a finger on her lips and a wicked grin. She grasped his hand and levitated them all the way to the top of the stairs, letting them down gracefully in front of her door. 

She opened it and gestured inside. 

“Is this private enough for you? It does have a lovely view.”

Solas hesitated, then strode inside. It was strange seeing his old room done up so differently. The furniture was sturdy, the space cozy and well organized. Nothing could be farther from his scattered laboratory of a room. Papers everywhere, experiments on all the tables, loincloth beneath the bed. He liked what Wendi'i had done with the place. 

They made their way to the balcony, where Solas briefly took in the view he had missed before turning back to the better view he had found. Wendi'i looked radiant in the sunlight. His breath caught in his chest. 

“What were you like, before the Anchor?” He found himself asking aloud. 

Wendi'i just gazed at her hand in thought. 

“Has it affected you?” He continued to press. “Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your...spirit?”

Wendi’i looked at him questioningly. 

“I don't believe so,” she responded, searching his face for what he was driving at. What was he driving at? He wasn't entirely sure. 

“Ah,” was all he could muster up.

“Why do you ask?” Wendi'i inquired with an eyebrow raised. 

“You show a wisdom I have not seen since…” he paused. He couldn't exactly say “since I was an Evanuris in ancient times.”

“Since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade,” he decided to finish. “You are not what I had expected.”

He had expected a lot of things, but never in a million centuries could he have predicted the love he would feel for this woman across from him. 

“What have I done that's so surprising?”  
Wendi'i asked with a slight frown.

“You have shown subtlety in your actions, a wisdom that goes against everything I expected. If the Dalish can raise someone with a spirit like yours, have I misjudged them?”

Wendi’i looked uncomfortable.

“Most of the Dalish only care about impressing other hunters with a good shot or talking about how awful humans are. There are only a few that seem to care about the old ways.”

“Perhaps that is it. I suppose it must be. Most people act with so little understanding of the world.”

He had no idea what he was doing. 

“But not you.”

“So what does this mean Solas?”

Wendi’i looked as confused as Solas felt. But something in him was satisfied with their conversation, a part of him needed to confirm that she was different. Special. It made it easier for him. 

“It means I have not forgotten the kiss.”

He saw Wendi'i blush. She lowered her eyes and stepped closer, and when she lifted her eyes to him once more the look in them set Solas on fire. 

“Good,” she said in a silky voice. 

She drew closer. Her arms crossed behind her back, and she angled her body up at him. This was it. The moment he dreamed of last night. 

But the look of love on her face filled him with guilt. What would this beautiful face look like if she knew the truth? 

Their faces were inches apart now. Solas could feel the conflict sharp in his bones. On one hand, he was an Evanuris and secretly planned to destroy this world as everyone here knew it. On the other...he loved her. 

But still he pulled away. 

Her hand on his arm stopped him physically along with the words that followed,

“Don't go.”

“It would be kinder in the long run,” he said honestly, hating himself for his weakness. 

There it was, hot and heavy inside him. Love. Deep and incredible love. 

“But losing you would…”

He threw himself into the kiss with reckless abandon. Her arms enveloped him. For what felt like an eternity there was nothing else but the sensation of lips, tongue, arms, and bodies pressed close in warmth. Solas knew it was wrong to love her but he did and he couldn't get enough of her embrace. 

“At lath ma, vhenan,” Solas whispered as he pulled himself away. 

Solas had to get out of there. His lust was flaring like it did the night before, but he had none of that confidence now. Staying here, being with her, was all he wanted, but he resolved himself to go. 

Until Solas heard the sound of heavy fabric hitting the floor. 

He turned slowly, hating himself for doing it but wanting desperately to see what he thought he was about to see. 

There, leaning on the side of the wall, his Wendi’i was as naked as the day he watched her bathe. Her freckles shone in the light of the balcony and her tits were perky from the crisp outside air they had been in. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. 

She sauntered towards him, hips swaying. Solas could do nothing but drink her in and watch. Then her arms were around his neck, and he remembered how to move again. 

Wendi’i yelped in surprise at how fast and hard his kisses began to come.


	26. The Man and the Maiden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i and Solas finally come together in intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks off right from where Chapter 25 ended if you need context.

They were a mess of tangled limbs and hot breaths. Solas could barely keep up with the force of movement Wendi’i was creating. He had started out strong, but she quickly overcame her surprise. She was a powerhouse of carnal energy, her lips and teeth on his skin and her body against him in all the best places. He tried to spin her around and place her underneath him so he could pleasure her, but Wendi’i would not be moved. She smirked as she easily pinned him into place.

Of course I’m not using my full strength, that would be suspicious, Solas thought to save face. The truth was he felt completely owned by her in that moment. Anything she asked, anything at all, it would be hers.

And that was before she went down on him.

Wendi’i raked her hands down his sides with pleasing pain as she twisted her tongue around his hard cock, and Solas could barely hold back a whimper of enjoyment. She teased and teased with her tongue, hitting all the sensitive places, but stopped short of bringing him to completion. 

That’s when she slid him inside of her.

There was no describing the feeling. Solas had obviously had sex before, even in this room, but never had it been like this. She was so warm and soft, their motions so in sync, and their passion so deliciously violent. It was fast, so fast! Then Wendi’i slowed it down, moving her hips in calculated positions to keep him from cumming. This off and on tactic of hers allowed them to enjoy the sensations for what seemed likes precious eternities. Solas couldn’t fathom a before and after, there was only this now.

She was a storm of passion and he was a willing witness. It was unlike any experience he had ever had!

But after some time had passed in this glorious state Solas knew he needed to cum inside of her. A fierceness formed in his eyes that Wendi’i instantly understood, and the force of their coming together increased dramatically. She moved with precision, he moved with desire, and between the two of them a bond was formed he knew could never be severed. The moment that he came felt like his true awakening, as if before this he had still been asleep in the fade. His mind was clear, and his body crumpled in overwhelming release. Their motions slowed down to a halt and both parties were panting heavily.

It was Wendi’i who said it first.

“I’ve been wanting that for a long time.”

Solas answered her swiftly with a deep kiss.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in her ear once they had finished a series of tender kisses.

“You’re...really hot…” was all Wendi’i seemed to be able to say. “I mean, there is more to you than that I’ve known for a while but how hot you are without clothes on is…”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

“That was by far the best sex I have ever had.”

Solas agreed internally, but he had a point to make.

“Was? It’s not over yet ma vhenan.”

And with all of his strength Solas pinned her in place and twisted his tongue around her clit until she came with a shout and a shudder.

“Now it’s the best sex I have ever had,” he whispered as they fell into an exhausted sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been posting, I finished a bachelors' degree and got married and got a full-time job...it was crazy! But I have a game-long plot going on so I'll try to get back to semi-regular posts!


	27. The Mage and the Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendi'i feels guilty for leading Cullen on and worries about the secret of her relationship being made known.

And so started their intimate relationship. Solas would wait until Dorian left for his own tryst and sneak to his former chambers. 

Wendi'i would be waiting for him, and the love they made was new and exciting every night. Sometimes Wendi'i took control and dominated the bedroom, and other nights Solas pleasured her completely until the moon was high in the sky. 

Even though they were getting less sleep, Wendi'i had never felt more awake and alive! Her lust was finally being satisfied after holding onto it for so long. The way Solas made love to her was like nothing she had never known before, even though she had known other men. But Solas wasn't like other men, that's what had drawn her to him at the beginning. 

Their pillow talk grew more and more intimate as their sexual intimacy grew. Solas talked about living on a farm growing up, and Wendi'i started calling him farm boy when she wanted to tease him. As for her, she began talking through her deep set fear of being herself and letting people in, and how the death of her Keeper was like losing a parent. Solas admitted that he was a selfish youth with little focus on the important things, but when Wendi'i tried to press he started getting vague. 

"Maybe you're still figuring out what the important things are," she said to him one night during one such conversation. 

She pressed her body against his to let him know what she thought was important, and gazed lovingly at him to bring home her message. Solas just looked at her tenderly of not a little awkwardly and blew out the candles for the night. 

Dorian and Iron Bull couldn't get over how secretive Wendi'i was being. 

"What's he like in the sack?" Bull demanded. 

"Oh...very talented..."

"Really?" Dorian exclaimed. "How could that awkward bald party pooper be anything but a weak lover?"

Wendi'i smiled and mischief sparked in her eyes. 

Dorian sighed. 

"Well no one can deny it, you have that spark in your eye that only excellent and satisfying sex can provide."

"Hey Dorian, let me see your eyes," Bull asked with false innocence.

Dorian laughed and smirked playfully. 

"Oh Bull, not in front of the Inquisitor!"

The three laughed together, but Wendi'i fell silent when she saw who was walking into the tavern. 

A dashing Commander Cullen in a fresh tunic and breaches. 

Bull noticed it first. 

"You doing okay, boss?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," Wendi'i lied. But when Dorian joined Iron Bull in looking her down, she cracked. 

"Okay, I feel weird. I totally flirted with Cullen constantly before this all happened, and while I wasn't trying to lead him on I think I kind of did it. It's just that things are different now. I'm not just flirting with whoever is cute anymore. I...I'm in love."

Dorian and Iron Bull about choked on their ale when she said the "L" word out loud, but neither tried to make it a big deal. This was their friend, not a time for jokes. 

Wendi'i sighed. 

"I know, it sounds crazy, but it's the truth. And don't go spreading that around! People talk about me enough just for my decisions as the Inquisitor, I really don't need them talking about my love life, too."

"We won't say a word," Dorian promised with total sincerity. He knew what it was like to have people pass judgement on his personal love life. 

Bull simply nodded. This was one bit of information that would never see a report. 

"Thanks guys," was all Wendi'i could say before Cullen walked over to them with his own flagon of ale. 

"Good evening, fellow members of the Inquisition!"

He flashed a bright smile towards Wendi'i. She smiled weakly, feeling guilt down to her toes. 

Luckily for Wendi'i, she had the best friends in all of Thedas. Dorian and Iron Bull spent the next hour dominating the conversation, and Cullen's attention. Every time he went to talk to Wendi'i they steered him away until Iron Bull and Cullen were involved in a deep debate on fighting techniques while Dorian quipped in with one liners. It was the perfect cover for the lack of conversation she was providing. 

After that awkward night, Wendi'i resolved to avoid Cullen as much as possible. She used a spell an old drunken made taught her to partially sober up, then changed into a more revealing ensemble for Solas' nightly visit. Her thoughts rattled around in her brain like dice. 

Dorian and Iron Bull could keep a secret, she knew that. Solas had previously asked her not to advertise their relationship, but she knew she could trust her best friends. If she and Solas were careful, and they always were, no one would know about this whole...situation. It made her feel strange to want this secrecy as badly as she did, while she had always been a private person she had never thought about what that would mean when something this intimate occurred. It was her first time being in love, and the idea of people knowing even that they were sleeping together felt like the biggest invasion of privacy she could ever possibly imagine. 

She made a mental note to avoid Cole as well.


End file.
